CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(i\1onographs) 


ICMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographles) 


Canadian  Institute  for  l^ittorical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiquas 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographically  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 


D 


Coloured  covers  / 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged  / 


Couverture  endommag^e 


□    Covers  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Couverture  restaurde  et/ou  pellicul6e 

I    Cover  title  missin    I  Le  litre  de  couverture  manque 

I I   Coloured  maps  /  Carles  g6ographiques  en  couleur 

□    Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)  / 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

I      I    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 


□ 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material  / 
Reli6  avec  d'aulres  documents 


n  ° 

I 1    3 


Only  edition  available  / 
3eule  Edition  disponible 


n 


D 


D 


Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion  along 
interior  margin  /  La  reliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de 
I'ombre  ou  de  la  dislorsion  le  long  de  la  marge 
inl^rieure. 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restorations  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have  been 
omitted  from  filming  /  Use  peut  que  certaines  pages 
blanches  ajout^es  lors  d'une  restauration 
apparaissenl  dans  le  lexte,  mais,  lorsque  cela  6tail 
possible,  ces  pages  n'onl  pas  ^l§  film^es. 

Additional  comments  / 
Commenlaires  suppl^mentaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
eld  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  eel  exem- 
plaire qui  sonl  peul-6tre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image  reproduile, 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modification  dans  la  m6tho- 
de  normale  de  filmage  sont  indiqu^s  ci-dessous. 

Coloured  pages  /  Pages  de  couleur 

I I   Pages  damaged  /  Pages  endommag^es 


D 


Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Pages  restaur^es  et/ou  pelliculees 


0    Pages  discoloured  stained  or  foxed  / 
Pages  d^color^es,  tachet^es  ou  piqu^es 

I      I   Pages  detached  /  Pages  d6tach6es 

I  >/\   Showthrough/ Transparence 

I      I   Quality  of  print  varies  / 


a 


n 


Quality  in^gale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material  / 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppl6mentaire 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata  slips, 
tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  lolalement  ou 
partiellement  obscurcies  par  un  feuillel  d'errata,  une 
pelure,  etc.,  ont  6t6  film^es  k  nouveau  de  fafon  h 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 

Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
discolourations  are  filmed  twice  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant  ayant  des 
colorations  variables  ou  des  decolorations  sont 
filmdes  deux  fois  afin  d'obtenir  la  meilleure  image 
possible. 


)  . 
i 

This  item  is  (iimed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checlced  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filme  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqui  ci-dessous. 

10x                             14x                            18x 

22x                             26x                              30x 

T 

12x                              16x                             20x 

24x                             28x                              32x 

'i 

A 

Th«  copy  fllmtd  h«r«  hat  b««n  raproducad  thanka 
to  tha  ganaroaity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


Tha  imagas  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  baat  quanty 
possibia  conaidaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  tpacif icationa. 

Original  eopias  in  printad  papar  covara  ara  fllmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  •"•""O  »" 
tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
aion.  or  tha  back  covar  whan  'PP'op""*- jf "  . 
othar  original  copiaa  ara  filmad  baginmng  on  tha 
first  paga  with  a  printad  or  "•"•"•*»**J'"P'f'' 
.ion  and  anding  on  tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illuatratad  impraaaion. 


Tha  laat  racordad  frama  on  aach  microflcha 
shall  contain   ha  symbol  -^  ""••"'"«  cSS-i' 
TINUED").  or  tha  symbol  V  (maaning    END  I, 
whichavar  applias. 

Maps,  platas.  charts,  ate.  may  ba  filmad  at 
diffarant  raduction  ratios.  Thosa  too  larga  to  ba 
antiraly  includad  in  ona  axpoaura  ara  filnjad 
baginning  in  tha  uppar  laft  hand  cornar.  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  framas  as 
raqMirad.  Tha  following  diagrams  illustrata  tha 
mathod: 


L'jxamplaira  film*  fut  raproduit  grica  *  la 
gintrositi  da: 

Bibliothequo  nationale  du  Caxwda 


Las  imagas  suivantas  ont  *t*  raproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
do  la  nanat*  da  laxamplaira  filmi,  at  tn 
conformit*  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmaga. 

Laa  axamplairaa  originaux  dont  la  couvartura  an 
papiar  aat  imprim*a  sont  filmis  an  commandant 
par  la  pramiar  plat  at  en  tarminant  soit  par  la 
darniira  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'imprasaion  ou  d'illuatration,  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  salon  la  caa.  Toua  laa  autras  axamplairas 
originaux  sont  fllmia  an  commandant  par  la 
pramiAra  paga  cui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'impraasion  ou  d'illustration  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  tiarni*ra  paga  qui  comporta  una  talla 
amprainta. 

Un  daa  symbolaa  suiwants  apparaitra  sur  la 
darniira  imaga  da  chaqua  microficha.  salon  la 
caa:  la  symbola  — ^  signifia  "A  SUIVRE  .  la 
symbols  ▼  signifia  "FIN". 

Las  cartaa.  planchaa.  tableaux,  ate.  pauvant  atre 
filmte  i  daa  taux  da  reduction  diff«rents. 
Lorsqua  la  document  aat  trop  grand  pour  atre 
raproduit  an  un  seul  clich*.  il  est  film*  *  partir 
da  I'angia  sup*rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  *  droita. 
et  da  haut  an  baa.  an  prenant  le  nombre 
d'imagea  n*cassaira.  Lea  diagrammas  su.vants 
illustrant  la  mAthoda. 


1 


L: 


W'-'ix'ii^g^^S^ 


>?-'':iy?;'^]s^.fy:^^^^^^^^ 


'.„«? 


'i?AiiF*: 


MICROCOPY    RESOIUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No    2) 


1.0 


I.I 


I 


36 


2.5 
2.2 

1.8 


^  -APPLIED  IM/1GE     Inc 

ST-  '^^-5    tost    Mom    Street 

^mSi  Rocriester.    Ne*   ''ork         14605       uSA 

'^=  (716)    482  -  0300  ~  Phone 

^=  (7!6)    288  -  S'leg  -  Fax 


YOUNG     MEN 
WHO  OVERCAME 


'€^\ 


WORKS  BY 

Robert  £.  Speer 


yoan^  Men  XOho  O-Oercame.   i2nio,  cloth, 

net,  |i.c». 
Mtj^ion^  and  Modern  HUtory.    A  Study  of 

the  B"arinK  on  Christian  Missions  of  Somo  (irt-at 

Events  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.    2  vols. ,  8vo, 

doth,  net,  54.00. 
A    Memorial  of  Horace   Tracy  1*ilK}n, 

i2mo,  cloth,  net,  |i.oo. 

A  youn^  Man' J  Quejiionj.    i2mo,  cloth, 

net,  80c. 
Missionary  Principles  and  Practice.    A 

Discussion  of  Chri.stian  Missions  and  Some 
Criticisms  upon  them.     8vo,  cloth,  net,  $1.50. 

The  Principles  o_f  Jesus  in  Some  Applica- 
tions to  Present  Life.     Long  i6niu,  net,  80c. 

Christ  and  Life.  I'apers  on  the  Practice  of 
the  Christian  Life.  i2mo,  cloth,  gilt  top, 
net,  fi.oo. 

'Presbyterian  Foreign  Missions.  An 
account  of  the  P'oreign  Missions  of  the  Preshy- 
terian  Church  of  the  United  States.  i8mo, 
cloth,  net,  50c. 

Studies  of  the  Man  Paul.  Uniform  with  "The 
Man  Christ  Jesus."     Long  i6nio,  cloth,  75c. 

Studies  0/  "  The  Man  Christ  Jesus." 
6/h  thousand.     Long  i6mo,  cloth,  75c. 

'Remember  Jesus  Christ.    And  other  Talks 

about  Christ  and  the  Christian  Life.     Long 

i6mo,  cloth,  75c. 
Missions   and    Politics    in    Asia.     i2mo, 

cloth,  Ji.oo. 
Gambling  and  "Betting.  A  Frank  Talk.  Paper, 

net,  IOC. 
China.    A  Study.     i2mo,  paper,  net,  loc. 
A  Memorial  0/  a  True  Life.    A  Biography 

of  Hugh   McAllister   Beaver.     With   Portrait. 

i2mo,  cloth,  |i.oo. 
Studies  in  the  Gospel  of  LuKe.    Cloth,  20c. ; 

paper,  loc. 

Studies  in  the  ^ooK.of  Acts.  Cloth,  40c.; 
paper,  25c. 


I 


YO  UNG     MEN 
WHO    OVERCAME 


By  ROBERT  E.  SPEER 


To  him  that  overcomcth  will  I  grant  to 
sit  with  mc  in  my  throne,  even  as  I  also 
overcame,  and  am  set  down  with  my 
Father    in    his  throne.      Rev.    Ill,  2T. 


I 


New   York 


Chicago 


Toronto 


Fleming   H.   Revell  Company 

London    and    Edinburgh 


ij.  I'/rn 


] 


6 


2276C9 


Copyright,   1905,  by 
FLEMING   H.    REVELL   COMPANY 

SECOND  EDITION 


New  York:  158  Fifth  Avenue 
Chicago  :  80  Wabash  Avenue 
Toronto:  27Richmond  Street, W. 
London  :  21  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh  :        100  Princes  Street 


PREFACE 

This  little  volume  is  made  up  of  sketches  of 
the  lives  of  fifteen  renl  men,  men  who  loved  the 
highest  and  who  made  duty  the  first  thing  in 
their  lives.     They  were  all  of  them  lovers  of 
Christ,  and  fit  as  any  men  on  the  earth  ever  are 
to  join  that  company  of  whom  we  are  told  that 
they  follow  tlie  Lamb  whithersoever  He  goeth. 
"  And  in  their  mouth  was  found  no  lie  and  they 
are  without  blemish."    Yet  the  unblemished  per- 
fection is  not  claimed  for  them.     In  their  wholc- 
someness  of  nature  they  would  have  resented 
the  suggestion  with  derision.    They  were  of  the 
Christian  type  which  despises  unreality  and  is 
acknowledged  to  represent  the  noblest  ideal  of  a 
man.    There  are  scores  of  living  men  as  winning 
and  fearless  and  pure  and  true,  but  only  those 
who  were  all  this  and  have  passed  on  are  eligible 
for  use  in  such  a  little  book  as  this,  and  I  have 
ventured  to  use  them  as  a  challenge  and  contra- 
diction to  those  who  think  Christianity  a  weak 


6 


PREFACE 


and  unmanlj  thing,  or  us  a  fine  but  impracti- 
cable thing,  and  as  an  appeal  to  the  bo^s  and 
young  men  who  may  read  to  rise  up  and  follow 
such  men  as  these,  as  they  rose  up  and  followed 
Clu*ist. 


I 


CONTENTS 

CHAI'TXK  rA>,l 

I.  Hiiiii  MtA.  BrAVKR !) 

A  LoriT  of  M»n 

II.  "Manvv"   Hoiaiiiiio 20 

A   MoiUrn  Sir  (lalahail 

III.  HUHACE  W.   K<JSE  31 

A   Winner  of  SouU 

IV.  Horace  Traiv  Pitkim 42 

A    Ynib  Martyr 

V.  Walter  Lownir: 57 

A  (lunlleman  nf  Strength 

VI.  Henry  V/aiid  Camp 81 

"Tim  Knightly  Soldier" 

VII.  Harry  MacInne;! 95 

"Joyfully    Ready" 

VIII.  Marshall  N'eweli UO 

A  Natural  Christian 

7 


/^tr 


-^t^^^k^a 


8  COxNTENTS 

CHAPTER 

PACK 

IX.  Theodohick  Bland  Phyor 134 

The  Phenomenal  Scholar 

X.  George  H.  C.  MacGreoor 139 

A  Modem  Myatie 

XI.  MiRZA  Ibrahim »» 

An  Alien  Brother  of  Fidelity 

XII.  WiLLLvM  Earl  Dodoe j^^ 

A  Christian  of  Privilege 

XIII.  Hedley  Vicars j^,, 

One  of  Christ's  Captains 

XIV.  Cortlandt  Van  Rensselaer  Hodge     ...     190 

A  Princeton  Martyr 

XV.  Isaac  Parker  Coale ggg 

A   Winner  of  His  Own    Victory 


HUGH    McA.     BEAVER 


A  LOVER  OF  MEN 


THE  truth  that  the  Christian  life  is  the 
happiest  life,  and  that  what  a  young 
man  gives  up  in  becoming  a  Christian  is 
nothing  in  comparison  with  what  Christianity 
brings  to  him,  was  well  illustrated  in  the  life  of 
Hugh  Beaver.  He  was  born  in  Belief  ontc,  Penn- 
sylvania, on  March  twenty-ninth,  1873.  George 
Beaver,  the  grandfather  of  Hugh's  great- 
grandfather, came  to  America  in  ITJ'O,  in  the 
movement  of  the  Huguenots  away  from  France, 
whose  folly  in  driving  thorn  out  bears  bitter  fruit 
to  this  day.  Soldiers,  preachers,  merchants,  and 
lawyers  constituted  Hugli  Beaver's  ancestral 
line,  and  on  both  sides  there  was  the  strength  of 
a  substantial  religious  faith. 

Hugh  was  a  happy,  playful,  active  boy.     He 
took  an  interest  in  everything,  and  grew  up  with 


mmim^imm^im:^mmm''j^M9^^tS_ 


10 


HUGH   McA.    BEAVER 


a  genial  freedom  of  nature  that  made  him  the 
friend  of  all.     Like  most  bojs,  he  was  fond  of 
the  play  of  war.    He  became  captain  of  a  boys' 
company  called  the  Belief  on  It  Guards,  which  he 
drilled  with  the  strictest  care,  and  in  which  he 
established  the  most  careful  discipline.     He  was 
pitcher  on  tlie  nine  which  the  boys  organized 
under  the  name  of  "  The  little  potatoes,  hard  to 
peel."    And  he  overflowed  always  with  good  na- 
ture and  kindliness.      "All   through  his  life," 
said  one  of  his  boyhood  friends,  recalling  these 
early  days,  "  Hugh  was  always  doing  something 
for  his  friends.     We  all  were  jealous  of  each 
other's  affection  for  him,  but  he  seemed  entirely 
unconscious  of  it  and  treated  us  all  alike." 

He  was  not  a  very  robust  boy,  but  he  went  to 
work  to  make  his  body  as  strong  and  symmetrical 
as  possible.  He  studied  How  to  get  Strong,  and 
he  worked  hard  in  a  gynmasium  which  he  fitted 
up  for  himself.  He  had  all  sorts  of  boys'  in- 
terests— taking  photographs,  stuffing  birds,  and 
keeping  chickens,  and  he  invented  an  incubator 
in  which,  by  an  arrangement  of  gum  bands  and 
knobs,  he  was  able  to  turn  the  eggs.  His  great- 
est triumph  as  a  photographer  was  a  picture  he 


%M^mimmkm^^>^^^ 


A   LOVER   OF   MEN 


11 


took  of  President  Harrison  and  his  party  as  they 
passed  through  Harrisburg,  where  Hugh  was 
living,  in  1890,  his  father  being  Governor  of 
Pennsylvania  at  the  time.  He  was  full  of  pa- 
triotism, too.  It  revealed  itself  in  his  unswerv- 
ing loyalty  to  his  own  old  home  town,  and  in  his 
love  of  his  country. 

When  Hugh  was  eighteen  he  went  to  the 
State  College,  in  Center  County.  He  entered 
into  the  life  of  the  college  with  characteristic 
enthusiasm.  He  was  not  robust  enough  for 
rough  athletics  himself,  but  he  took  great 
delight  in  encouraging  the  team..  He  was  inde- 
fatigable in  working  for  the  interests  of  the  col- 
lege, and  he  was  everybody's  friend.  As  a  fel- 
low-student said :  "  There  certainly  never  was  a 
man,  in  any  capacity,  who  stood  nearer  to  the 
hearts  of  the  students  here  than  did  Hugh. 
He  never  met  one  but  his  hearty  hand  grasp 
and  his  cheery  greeting  went  straight  to  the 
heart  and  warmed  it."  At  the  ..ame  time,  Hugh 
was  just  like  the  great  majority  of  boys  in  hav- 
ing no  deep  and  personal  religious  life  as  yet. 
He  was  young  in  years,  and  younger  still  in 
heart.     He  was  tingling  with  social  happiness, 


^,-    .r-j.    "S^- 


+r3 


la 


HUGH   McA.    BEAVER 


and  had  a  multitude  of  interests  on  the  surface 
of  life.  The  deep  springs  had  not  ^"en  un- 
sealed. 

In  the  summer  of  1893,  however,  he  went  with 
his  brother  to  the  Lake  Geneva,  Wisconsin, 
Sununer  Bible  Conference  for  College  Students, 
and  there  he  saw  the  vision  of  the  great  life, 
and  heard  the  call  of  the  great  Master.  He 
came  back  to  the  college  with  the  consciousness 
of  the  issue  between  Christ  and  self  in  life,  and 
he  took  up  that  struggle  with  a  knowledge  of 
what  it  involved,  and  a  realization  of  the  supreme 
importance  of  the  spiritual  things.  In  this  new 
life  all  his  jollity,  his  merriment,  his  light- 
heartedness  remained  with  him,  only  refined  yet 
more,  made  more  gentle,  buoyant,  and  winsome 
by  the  new  friendship  for  Christ  he  had  con- 
ceived, and  the  power  it  was  gaining  in  his  life. 
In  the  summer  vacation  after  his  junior  year 
the  victory  was  won,  and  Hugh  gave  his  life  and 
time  definitely  to  Jesus  Christ  as  his  Lord.  He 
went  back  to  college  to  serve  Christ  and  to  save 
men.  What  his  classmates  said  of  him  shows 
how  strong  and  respected  he  was  in  this  Chris- 
tian service: 


.•*»ifc 


A    LOVER    OF    MEN 


13 


"  We  know  that  in  all  cases  and  at  all  times 
he  sought  to  right  errors,  .  .  .  always 
speaking  a  good  word  on  the  side  of 
Christianity,  and  setting  the  example  by  the 
excellence  of  his  own  life." 

At  the  close  of  his  senior  year  he  accepted, 
after  a  struggle,  the  call  to  tako  up  the  student 
work  for  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Associa- 
tions of  Pennsylvania.  In  his  letter  of  accept- 
ance, he  wrote: 


"  I  had  other  plans  in  view,  but  for  about 
throe  years  I  have  bc-n  calling  for  hymn  No. 
107  of  Gospel  Hymns  No.  5,  in  about  all  the 
meetings  I  have  attended — '  IMy  Jesus,  as  Thou 
Wilt ' — and  it  seemed  that  the  spirit  of  the 
hymn  should  be  a  guide  to  me  in  this  the  first 
call  that  has  cost  me  very  much  to  obey.  So 
you  will  find  me  next  year,  if  God  permits,  doing 
what  I  can  with  His  help,  in  our  Pennsylvania 
colleges." 

For  two  years  Hugh  worked  among  the  col- 
leges of  his  State.  His  work  was  successful 
from  the  beginning.     He  went  straight  at  men's 


J^g^^^^v^Jtg^-^^^^^ijKS 


ete^feSt.^-oA*iii^-^r^iC 


14 


HUGH    McA.    BEAVER 


wills  and  lives,  and  he  did  it  with  such  loving- 
hcartedncss  that  men  simply  could  not  resist. 
Busy  as  he  was,  he  followed  up  the  men  who  were 
interested,  writing  back  to  urge  them  to  be  true. 
This  was  one  letter : 


"I  pray  you  may  make  a  bold  stand  for 
Christ,  not  a  halfway  acceptance,  keeping  it  to 
yourself,  but  take  Him  to  make  you  pure.     Get 
your  Bible  and  read  Rom.   x.  9-13,  and  with 
His  help  do  it.     Honestly,  old  man,  it  will  give 
you  great  peace  and  joy  after  you  have  done  it. 
It  may  be  hard,  but  we  arc  manly  enough  to 
acknowledge  a  friendship  that  means  to  us  what 
this   one   should.     If  you   neglect   to   make   a 
stand  now,  it  will  be  much  harder  the  next  time, 
should  God  speak  to  you,  and  to  be  frank,  we 
are  apt  to  become  so  hardened  wo  do  not  hear 
His  voice.     We  can  never  tell  when  our  time  of 
preparation   will   end.     See   James    iv.    13-17. 
Gol  help  30U  to  make  a  manly  stand,  both  on 
account  of  what  it  will  mean  to  you,  and  be- 
cause I  am  sure  it  will  help  others — may  lead 
someone  else  to  do  likewise. 

"  If  you  have  time  and  inclination,  I  would 


-^mNk 


A    LO^'ER    OF    MEN 


15 


he  fjlad  to  have  you  write  me.  Bellcfonte,  Pa., 
will  reach  n>e,  but  do  not  feel  compelled  to  write, 
only  if  yon  feel  like  it.  I  can't  tell  you  how 
happy  it  will  make  mc  if  you  can  tell  nie  you 
have  proved  yourself  a  man.  I  pray  for  you. 
"  Sincerely  your  friend, 

"Hugh   McA.   Beaver." 

One  subject  about  which  Hugh  soon  perceived 
it  would  be  necessary  to  speak  plainly  was  per- 
sonal purity.  On  November  twelfth,  1895,  he 
signed  the  White  Cross  pledge  card,  which  he 
carried  in  his  Bible  and  which  read: 


"  My  strength  is  as  the  strength  of  ten. 
Because  my  heart  Is  pure." 

"I,  Hugh  McA.  Beaver,  promise,  by  the  help  of  God: 

"  1.  To  treat  all  women  witii  respect  and  endeavor  to 
protect  them  from  wrong  and  degradation. 

"3.  To  endeavor  to  put  down  all  indecent  language 
and  coarse  jests. 

"3.  To  maintain  the  law  of  purity  as  equally  binding 
upon  men  and  women. 

"4.  To  endeavor  to  spread  these  principles  among 
my  companions  and  to  try  to  help  ray  younger  brothers. 

"5.  To  use  every  possiole  means  to  fulfill  the  com- 
mand, 'Keep  thyself  pure.'" 


16  HUGH    McA.    BEAVER 

Ami  ho  wore  n  little  White  Cross  pin,  to  she 
his  convictions. 

As  he  went  on  with  his  work,  his  own  h"! 
grew  deeper  and  stronger.  On  November  si, 
teenth,  1895,  he  felt  drawn  to  still  highc 
service,  am]  ho  wrote  on  the  back  of  his  Wln't 
Cross  pledge  card  a  "  deed,"  as  he  called  it  ii 
writing  to  his  mother,  which  was  as  follows: 

"  KuTzTowN,  Pa.,  Nov.  16,  '95. 
"'Just  as  r  am!  Thy  love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down; 
Now  to  be  Thine,  yea.  Thine  alone, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come,  I  come.' 

"  Tills  16th  day  of  November,  1895,  I,  Hugh 
McA.  Beaver,  do,  of  my  own  free  will,  give  my- 
self,  all  that  I  am  and  have,   entirely,    mre- 
servcdly,  and  unqualifiedly,  to  Him,  whom,  not 
having  seen,  I  love;  on  whom,  though  now  I 
see  Him  not,  I  believe.     Bought  with  a  price,  I 
give  myself  to  Him  who  at  the  cost  of  His  own 
blood  purchased  me.     Now  committing  myself 
to  Him,  who  is  able  to  guard  me  from  stumbling 
and  to  set  me  before  the  presence  of  His  glory 
H-ithout  blemish  in  exceeding  joy,  I  trust  myself 
to  Him  for  all  things,  to  be  used  as  He  shall  see 


\^^^ifi^^smm^^^^i-'M 


■#i.j 


A    LOVi:  .    OF    MEN 


17 


fit,  where  lie  shall  s^e  fit.  Sealed  by  the  Holv 
Spirit,  filled  with  the  peace  of  God  that  passeth 
understanding,  to  Him  be  all  glory,  world  with- 
out end.     Amen. 

"  Hugh  McA.  Beaver." 

In  the  summer  he  went  to  Xorthfield  to  the 
Student^'   Conference,   and   there    so    impressed 
Mr.  Moody  that  the  latter  invited  him  to  come 
to  Mt.  Hermon  to  teach  the  Bible;  but  Hutrh 
declined  this  modestly,  feeling  that  his  work  still 
lay  among  the  students  of  his  own  State  and  in 
personal  effort  to  win  them  to  Christ  and  the 
pure  life.     Toward  the  close  of  the  college  year, 
in  the  spring  of  1897,  however,  a  call  came  to 
him  that  he  felt  was  the  call  of  God,  and  he 
accepted  it,  agreeing  to  take  up,  in  September, 
1897,  the  work  among  students  in  New  York 
city.    But  ho  never  entered  upon  this  work.    He 
went  to  Northfield  for  the  Students'  Conference, 
and  rcmainetl  over  unexpectedly  to  teach  a  Bible 
class  at  the  Young  Women's  Conference  which 
followed.     That  was  to  be  his  last  work  and  his 
best  work.     \Miat  it  accomplished  for  many  is 
indicated  in  what  one  girl  wrote  that  it  had  done 
for  her: 


18 


HUGH    Ale  A.    BEAVER 


"I  went  up  to  Nortlificld — n  delegate  from 
my   collcpre  to   tlic   Young  VVoiiion's   Cliristinn 
Association  Conference — a  girl  whose  sole  ambi- 
tion in  life  was  to  become  known  to  the  world — 
to  become  great  herself  and  for  her  own  glory. 
I  had  been  a  member  of  the  Church  since  a  child, 
and   considered   myself  a   Christian;   but   even 
my  good  works  were  l)ent  to  one  end — self-glory. 
But   there   at   Northfield    it    was   all    changed. 
There,  as  I  sat  in  Mr.  Beaver's  class — a  college 
man,  as  I  am  a  college  woman — who  must  have 
known  the  temptation  of  personal  ambition — 
and  hcaru  him  tell  of  his  Christ  and  of  the 
infinite  love  of  the  Father,  who  has  for  us  gifts 
far  above  any  that  we  could  ask  or  plan  for 
oursclvcfs — if  we  only  let  Him  plan  for  us— I 
saw  it  all — the  folly  and  selfishness  of  my  life. 
As  in  a  vision  I  saw  your  son's  Christ,  and  He 
became  mine.     Now  I  live  for  Him,  and  oh,  the 
sweetness  and  the  beauty  of  this  life!     I  have 
never  known  anything  like  it." 


But  he  gave  his  life  in  this  last  service.  All 
the  stored-up  love  of  his  heart  for  Christ  and  for 
men  went  out  in  this  attempt  to  win  these  young 


A    LOVEH   OF    MEN 


19 


women  to  the  beauty  and  holiness  of  Christ,  and 
he  went  home  weary  and  done.     On  August  sec- 
ond, unable  to  rally  from  an  attack  of  appendi- 
citis, he  slipped  away  to  the  service  of  the  King 
he  had  so  passionately  loved,  and  whom  now  he 
was  to  serve  forever  in  the  painless  country. 
When  he  was  gone,  from  every  corner  of  the 
land  came  testimonials  to  the  power  of  his  influ- 
ence.    It    is    wonderful    how    far   a    true    life 
throws  its  light,  and  how  good  the  faithful  God 
is  in  making  rich  and  glorious  the  fruitage  of  a 
sincere  service!     Twenty-four  short  years  had 
been  long  enough  for  Hugh  Bca\cr  to  win  scores 
of  young  men  and  women  to  the  better  life, 
and  to  grow  himself  into  the  very  beauty  of  the 
Lord  he  sencd.     Very  faulty  and  valueless  all 
other  lives  appear  when  contrasted  with  the  true 
life  of  outspoken  Christian  service. 

And  Hugh  was  perfectly  happy  and  joyful 
in  it  all !  He  lived  in  the  gladness  of  God,  and 
he  knew  that  his  work  was  the  best  work  in 
the  world.  But  every  young  man  may  have  the 
same  life,  if  he  will.  And  surely  he  will,  if  only 
he  pauses  to  look  at  Christ  end  to  remember  the 
eternities. 


i 


II 


••MANNY"    HOLABIRD 


A   MODERN  SIR  GALAHAD 


WILLIAM  HOLABIRD,  Jr.,  was  one 
of  the  boys  who  refute  by  their  lives 
tlic  despondency  of  people  as  to  the 
character  of  the  American  boy,  and  the  preju- 
dice against  athletics  on  the  ground  that  they 
interfere  with  true  growth  of  character.  He 
was  the  sort  of  boy  in  whom  no  flaw  is  found, 
and  he  was  sunsliine  itself  in  all  his  ways,  and 
dignity  and  self-respect  in  all  his  relations. 
"  Manny,"  as  he  was  best  known,  was  born  in 
Evanston,  Illinois,  April  fourth,  1884,  and  died 
in  his  birthplace,  August  eighteenth,  1902,  of 
typhoid  fever.  He  had  just  completed  his 
course  at  the  Hill  School,  Pottstown,  and  was 
expecting  to  enter  Yale  in  the  fall.  What  sort 
of  boy  he  was  is  well  i''  istruted  by  the  brief 
sketch  which  appeared  in  The  Golfers'  Maga- 
zine for  September,  1902: 

20 


A    MODEUN    Sill    GAr.AIIAD       21 

"  As  a  lad  lie  attended  the  schools  at  Evnns- 
ton,  g  iduuting  witli  hifrh  honors,  and  going 
hitor  to  the  Hill  School,  ut  I'ottstown,  Pennsyl- 
vania, to  prepare  for  Vale,  the  ;  xaniinations  for 
which  he  had  just  passed  without  a  single  con- 
dition hcing  imposed.  While  chiefly  known  to 
the  puhlic  as  a  golfer,  Manny  was  catcher  on  the 
school  baseball  team,  half-back  on  the  eleven, 
held  the  gold  medal  for  the  inter-class  track 
meet,  and,  in  fact,  'ed  in  all  athletic  sports. 

As  a  scholar  he  alwL^s  ranked  high.  He  was 
devotion  itself  to  his  parents,  his  brothers  and 
sisters,  respectful  to  his  elders,  a  leader  among 
his  associates,  and  beloved  by  all  who  knew  him ; 
tall  in  stature  and  muscled  like  a  Greek  god, 
with  clear-cut,  delicate,  refined,  and  manly  fea- 
tures. On  account  of  his  nmnly  qualities  and 
an  earnestness  and  steadfastness  of  purpose  be- 
yond his  years,  his  school  friends  had  nicknamed 
him  *  Manny.'  One  remarkable  feature  of  this 
noble  lad's  life  was  the  wonderful  influence  that 
he  exerted  for  good  over  his  associates.  Wel- 
comed and  popular  everywhere,  his  head  was 
never  in  the  least  turned  by  success  after  suc- 
cess, taking  his  few  defeats  as  became  the  per- 


22 


"MANNY"    HOLABIRD 


feet  gentleman  that  he  was.  With  a  rare 
combination  of  strength  and  gentleness  accom- 
panied by  a  bearing  and  life  well  illustrating 
'  He  was  one  of  nature's  noblemen,'  he  has  left  a 
memory  which  will  be  a  lasting  influence  for 
good  and  the  upbuilding  of  a  high,  manly  char- 
acter among  the  youth  of  our  country.  Manny 
Holabird  and  his  beautiful,  pure  life  will  be 
remembered  long  after  Manny  Holabird  the 
golfer  has  been  forgotten.  Such  a  life,  how- 
ever short,  is  an  example  for  all." 


The  Golfers*  Magazine  was  interested  in 
Manny  because  of  the  skill  as  a  golf  player 
which  had  given  him  a  national  reputation. 
Though  only  nineteen  at  the  time  of  his  death, 
he  was  the  best  player  of  the  Gl.n  View  Club, 
and  it  was  the  hope  of  many  golfers  in  the  West 
that  he  would  bring  the  national  championship 
to  his  club  in  the  contest  of  1902.  He  was  busy 
practicing  for  the  contest  when  the  sickness 
camo  from  which  he  never  recovered.  He  was 
runner-up  to  the  winner  a  year  or  two  before  in 
the  contest  for  the  Western  Golf  Champion- 
ship at  the  Onwentsia  Club.     At  the  national 


"^ 


A   MODERN    SIR    GALAHAD       23 

tournament  in  Atlantic  City  in  1901  he  was  one 
of  the  most  promising  of  the  younger  players. 
A  reporter  in  the  Chicago  Evening  Post,  the 
day  after  his  death,  cited  some  of  his  other 
triumphs : 

"Among  Holabird's  notable  achievements 
was  the  winning  of  the  Chicago  cup  at  Whcaton. 
On  this  big  trophy,  such  well-known  i.ames  of 
other  winners  as  Findlay  S.  Douglas,  C.  B.  Mac- 
donald,  and  Slason  Thompson  appear.  Tro- 
phies almost  without  number  were  won  by  Hola- 
bird  in  three  seasons  of  play  in  tourneys  and 
club  events.  Last  year,  while  practicing  for 
the  national  event,  he  surprised  the  golfing 
critics  by  his  defeat  of  Lawrence  Auchterlonie, 
the  well-known  professional,  in  a  friendly 
match,  in  which  Holabird's  medal  score  was 
seventy-one  for  eighteen  holes.  This  record  has 
never  been  excelled  or  equaled." 

But  Manny  Holabird  was  far  more  than  a 
great  golf  player.  He  was  a  perfect  gentle- 
man, for  one  thing.  Nothing  spoiled  him.  He 
was  simple,  sincere,  modest,  and  gentle  as  a 
young    knight.     An    old    gentleman    who    had 


24 


MANNY"    HOLABIRD 


watched  the  boy  and  often  played  with  him, 
experiencing  always  at  the  young  man's  hands 
the  considerate  and  kindly  treatment  which  was 
natural  to  Manny,  wrote  a  grateful  letter  to  the 
Chicago  Times,  in  which  Lc  said: 


"  In  this  day  of  often  too  careless  life  among 
the  you  ^-  men  of  social  position  it  were  not  well 
to  let  go  without  some  more  or  less  public  com- 
ment the  sad  event  of  the  passing  away  of  such 
a  life  as  that  of  William  Holabird,  Jr.  There 
does  not  occur  to  me  any  name  of  a  boy  yet  in 
his  teens  more  widely  known,  more  honored  for 
high,  manly  character,  more  loved  for  gentle, 
modest  bearing. 

"Of  course,  his  almost  phenomenal  achieve- 
ment in  the  most  popular  form  of  outdoor 
sports  gave  him  a  national  reputation,  but  no 
one  who  c.cr  saw  him  victorious  on  the  links 
admired  more  his  prowess  than  the  modest  way 
in  which  he  bore  his  honors.  His  liberal,  gentle- 
mj;nly  bearing  toward  his  rivals  bespoke  more 
the  veteran  sportsman  than  the  youthful  strip- 
ling. The  applause  of  the  following  '  gallery  ' 
never  turned  his  head. 


^.^(^' 


'j-^^r:T"^..,^:y^::  -wym^i^^im^i 


A   MODERN    SIR    GALAHAD        25 

"But,  more  importunt,  he  fully  appreciated 
the  difFerence  between  sport  and  work,  between 
recreation  and  labor.  He  'olt  all  the  serious- 
ness of  life,  and  how  earnest  must  be  the 
endeavor  to  make  life  most  worth  Hvinf^ 

"  In  social  life,  his  almost  unique  combination 
of  strength  and  gentleness,  accompanied  by  a 
bearing  admirably  illustrating  the  noblesse 
oblige,  made  him  universally  popular,  and  a 
more  than  welcome  guest  in  every  house. 

"  He  has  left  a  memory  whicli  will  be  a  lasting 
influence  for  good,  for  the  building  up  of  high, 
manly  character  among  the  young  men  who 
knew  and  honored  him." 

Manny's  influence  for  good  was  unfailing. 
He  never  did  wrong  thing-  himself,  and  he  had 
a  way  of  making  them  seem  unpleasant  to  others. 
One  of  the  boys  at  the  Hill  School  told,  after 
his  death,  of  an  occasion  when  he  had  let  slip  a 
bad  oath  in  a  crowd  of  boys.  The  moment  it 
was  out,  Manny  had  turned  and  looked  at  him. 
"My!"  the  boy  said,  in  telling  it,  "  iiow  that 
look  of  :\Ianny's  did  cut !  I  didn't  swear  any 
more."     There  was  no  weakness  in  him.     His 


26 


"  MANNY  "    IIOLABIRD 


nickname  was  no  soft  puerility.  He  got  it 
because  it  fitted  him.  He  was  a  boy,  but 
he  was  a  manly  boy,  and  all  other  boys  felt  it 
and  respected  and  loved  him.  When  he 
died,  the  caddies  at  the  Glen  View  Club  put 
their  pennies  together  and  bought  a  wreath  for 
his  funoral.  At  the  Hill  School,  even  the  serv- 
ants always  loved  jNIanny  Holabird,  and  the 
housekeeper,  who  had  her  own  point  of  view,  ha  ' 
no  words  except  words  of  grateful  praise  for 
him. 

His  purity  cost  him  something.     As  Profes- 
sor Meigs  wrote: 


"  I  should  do  violence  to  the  truth  did  I  leave 
on  the  minds  of  those  who  for  love  of  Manny 
may  read  these  simple  words,  the  impression  that 
here  was  one  born  under  a  '  lucky  star,'  and  ris- 
inf>\  tliercfore,  to  easy,  unconscious,  perhaps 
careless,  skill  in  whatever  engaged  for  the  brief 
moments  of  strife  his  manly  purpose.  Not  so, 
thank  God,  did  he  achieve  character  or  empire  of 
hearts  and  minds  eager  to  own  his  sway. 

"  His  life  was  stainless  .  .  .  but  not 
because,   in   the  very   glory    and   ardor   of  his 


s^i:m^ 'm^^fmm. 


'"  ^ 


A   MODERN    SIR    GALAHAD        27 

radiant  and  aboundinjr  life  he  knew  not  the 
subtlest  temptation  and  victory,  too,  over  pas- 
sion. His  spirit  w;  -i  serene,  not  without  the 
conquest  of  self  and  its  insidious  promptings  to 
sacrifice  peace  and  security  for  easier  and  baser 
attainments.  His  spiritual  life  was  deep,  of  the 
very  fiber  of  his  whole  nature,  a  thing  of  spirit 
rather  than  of  speech,  pervading  all  his  human 
relations  and  transfusing  into  them  the  more 
abundant  life  which  his  Master  came  to  give." 

One  of  the  masters  at  the  Hill  School,  Mr. 
Weed,  wrote  for  The  Golfers'  Magazine  a  little 
sketch  of  Holabird's  life  at  the  Hill,  which  will 
help  to  reveal  the  real  beauty  and  original 
grace  of  the  high  life : 

"  William  Holabird,  Jr.,  or  Manny,  as  we  all 
knew  him,  was  with  us  at  the  Hill  School  for  a 
year  and  a  half.  While,  of  course,  his  great 
ability  as  a  golfer  was  known  to  us  all,  still  his 
popularity  and  leadership  at  the  school  were 
determined  wholly  by  his  own  lovely  cliaracter 
and  noble,  manly  qualities.  He  was  a  fine 
scholar,  doing  always  high-class  work  in  his 
studies,  and  a  splendid  athlete,  playing  on  all  of 


28 


"  iMANNY  "    IIOLABIRD 


our  school  teams.  He  was  catcher  on  the  nines 
both  seasons,  lialf-back  on  the  olcvcti,  on  the  golf 
team,  etc.  He  was  prominent,  too,  in  the  social 
life  of  the  school  and  leader  in  the  boys'  Y.  M. 
C.  A.  work.  In  fact,  he  was  associated  in  every 
branch  of  the  school  life,  and  a  leader  in  each. 

"  Winning  in  manner,  frank,  sincere,  warmly 
sympathetic  in  nature,  and  full  of  enthusiasm, 
standing  always  for  what  is  right  and  best  in 
life,  he  won  the  love,  affection,  and  admiration 
of  everybody  who  came  in  contact  with  him. 
With  all  his  successes,  he  was  ever  modest,  and 
never  from  him  would  one  get  an  intimation  of 
what  he  had  done. 

"  A  splendid  athlete,  with  a  life  without  a  spot 
or  stain,  he  was  a  natural  leader,  and  a  model 
for  all  the  fellows  in  the  school.  The  younger 
boys  followed  and  imitated  him.  No  one  can 
know  or  estimate  the  effect  of  his  influence  in 
forming  the  cluiracter  of  the  fellows  who  have 
lived  with  him  and  been  close  to  him.  He  hated 
everything  false  or  unclean  or  vulgar. 

"  To  us  all,  men  and  boys  alike,  it  was  an 
inspiration  to  know  him.  In  him  a'c  realized 
the  possibilities  that  lie  in  a  boy.     God's  ideal 


f 


A   MODERN    SIR    GALAHAD       29 

of  a  boy  may  be  higher,  but  Manny  certainly 
realized  the  human  ideal.  It  is  no  wonder  that 
a  Hill  School  boy  said  that  Manny  was  his  hero. 
Another  boy — no,  not  one,  but  several,  and 
boys,  too,  who  have  fallen  short  of  ^lanny's 
qualities — told  me  last  week,  'We  fellows  arc 
going  to  brace  up  and  try  to  do  all  we  can ;  what 
Manny  would  have  done  in  college.  It's  what 
he  wants  us  to  do ;  and  we  owe  him  too  much  not 
to  do  it  for  him.' 

"  He  was  the  finest  young  man  I  have  ever 
known.  I  never  expect  on  earth  to  see  his 
better." 

It  is  hard  to  understand  the  purpose  of  God 
in  taking  away  from  the  earth  boys  like  Manny 
Holabird  and  Hugh  Beaver.  They  are  just  the 
sort  most  needed  here.  But  perhaps  they  do  not 
need  any  longer  the  discipline  of  this  lower  life, 
and,  being  perfected,  are  ready  for  the  higher 
service  above.  A  lady  who  knew  ^lanny  put 
this  thought  about  him  into  these  verses : 

"Oh,  strange  immutability  of  fate 

That  this  young  life  thus  rudely  should  be  torn! 
The  old  earth  needs  such  brave,  courageous  hearts, 
And  sunset  comes  not  to  the  rising  mora. 


M 


vM^.^P^-: 


fjJM'.A      % 


30 


"MANNY"    llOLABIRD 


"  To  go  in  the  full  strength  of  rosy  May, 

AVith  all  life's  honors  waiting  to  be  earned, 
With  song  unsung,  and  story  all  untold. 

Life's  pleasures  and  life's  lessons  all  unlearned! 


"Yet  in  the  loving  memory  of  all, 

With  tcirs  and  smiles  this  dear  name  we  enroll; 
What  though  tiie  eup  of  brimming  hopes  be  dashed. 
Triumphant  is  tlie  bright,  unsullied  soul. 

"  The  sunny  smile,  the  happy,  loving  he.^rt, 
Translated  only  to  a  sjjhere  more  meet. 
Where  every  bud  shall  bear  more  perfect  fruit. 
And  life's  gold  eircle  shall  round  out  complete." 

And  even  though  we  lose  tliose  we  love  best 
and  who  best  descne  love,  we  are  the  better  for 
having  known  them,  and  wc  are  better  able  to 
make  others  better. 


-,Jfc^>Jpje*-V.C^*  •-  *^'-i—-.  *--u 


III 


HORACE    W.    ROSE 


-a 


I 


A    WINNER    OF    SOULS 

HORACE  W.  ROSE  was  bom  in  Rock- 
ford,  Illinois,  in  187-i,  and  he  took 
his  preparatory  school  and  collegiate 
courses  at  Beloit,  Wisconsin,  where  he  Avas  grad- 
uated in  1896.  During  his  college  course  he 
was  active  in  all  athletic  sports,  playing  on  the 
football  eleven,  catching  on  the  nine,  and  belong- 
ing to  the  track  team.  He  had  his  hands  full 
of  work,  but  he  never  shirked  more,  and  he  was 
resolved  to  gain  and  use  for  good  all  the  influ- 
ence he  could.  "  I  bought  my  dress  suil  while 
I  was  in  college,"  he  told  a  friend  afterwards, 
"  though  I  was  working  my  way  mostly,  and  did 
not  have  much  money  to  spare.  I  wanted  to 
get  onto  the  management  of  the  Git  Club  for 
certain  reasons,  and  needed  a  dress  suit.  So  I 
put  in  some  extra  work  to  earn  money  for  it." 
"  Did  you  not  travel  on  Sundays  when  you 

31 


.'}2 


HORACE    W.    ROSE 


were  off  with  tl>e  football  teuin?"  he  was  asked 
one  time. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  our  football  games  were 
always  (irrangcd  so  we  would  not  have  to  travel 
on  Sunday.     I  never  travel  on  Sunday  anyway." 

From  his  earliest  childhood  he  had  been  a  boy 
of  religious  faith  and  positive  character.  "  I 
have  always  said,"  writes  his  mother,  "  that 
Horace  preached  his  first  sermon  when  he  was 
three  years  old,  during  a  lively  agitation  on  the 
temperance  question  in  the  community.  Stand- 
ing upon  a  chair,  with  a  book  in  hand,  he  pro- 
claimed to  an  imaginary  audience,  '  Don't  'e 
dink  any  more  fisky ;  it  dunks  you ;  it  burns  you 
so  you  can't  see ;  it  deads  you.  Don't  'e  do  it ! 
For  Christ's  sake.'  He  had  a  very  happy  child- 
hood, always  winning  friends  among  school- 
mates and  teachers.  His  first  public  address 
was  made  when  he  was  nineteen  years  old,  after 
a  summer  vacation  spent  in  the  Sunday-school 
work,  when  the  churches  of  the  town  united  to 
listen  to  iiini.  He  greatly  prized  the  commenda- 
tion of  the  managers  of  the  Sunday-school  work 
at  headquarters  in  Philadolphia  for  his  unex- 
celled record  in  organizing  schools." 


mi 


mam 


A    WINNER    OF    SOULS 


33 


In  college  he  was  one  of  the  most  nctivo  Chris- 
tian workers,  and  du'ring  his  senior  year  was 
president  of  the  Youn^  Men';;  Christian  Associ- 
ation, his  term  of  service  oulminatinpr  in  a  deep 
religious  awakening.  After  graduation  he  be- 
came General  Secretary  of  the  Association  of 
the  State  University  of  Iowa,  and  a  year  later 
went  to  the  University  of  Michigan,  where  he 
remained  two  years  as  General  Secretary,  the 
membership  of  the  Association  doubling  during 
his  stay.  Ho  soon  grew  out  from  this  into 
larger  service,  and  In  1899  became  one  of  the 
Student  Secretaries  of  the  International  Com- 
mittee, having  charge  of  the  college  work  from 
Ohio  to  the  Pacific  Coast. 

"  His  ambition,"  says  The  Intcrcollegian, 
"  was  to  leave  a  trail  of  light  behind  him,  and 
he  did  it.  In  sixty  of  the  eighty  colleges  visited, 
men  were  converted  during  his  stay.  During  the 
year  he  was  the  means  of  winning  personally 
more  than  four  hundred  students  to  Christ.  He 
led  about  twenty-five  men  to  give  their  lives  to 
foreign  missions,  and  a  large  number  besides  to 
enter  other  forms  of  Christian  work.  He  led 
over  six  hundred  men   into  Bible   study   as  a 


I 


M 


nORACK    W.    ROSE 


I 


result  of  personal  interviews.  Kvcry  conversa- 
tion entered  into  and  every  letter  ho  wrote  was 
inbreathed  with  his  lonjring  for  the  spiritiud 
uplifting  of  cnWoffo  men.  The  whole  student 
movement  felt  the  thrill  of  his  triump.  .t  faith 
and  ceaseless  activity." 

The  impression  that  he  constantly  made  on 
men  is  illustrated  in  the  recollection  of  a  Cali- 
fornia student: 

"  It  was  my  fortune  to  meet  Mr.  Rose  upon 
his  arrival  at  our  university.  I  had  never  seen 
him  previous  to  this.  Before  goinf?  to  the 
depot  I  was  a  little  anxious  for  fear  I  should 
miss  him ;  so  I  went  to  one  of  the  '>>_y  \  h j  knew 
him,  in  order  to  get  a  description  of  the  visitor. 
'  Well,'  said  my  friend,  '  pick  out  the  biggest 
man  with  the  biggest  smile.'  I  expressed  myself 
p.s  trusting  I  should  find  hini.  '  Yes,  you'll  have 
no  trouble,'  answered  the  man  whom  Rose  had 
left  his  impression  on,  as  h.e  did  on  every  man  he 
met ;  '  he'll  know  you,  if  you  don't  recognize 
him.'  At  the  Pacific  Grove  Conference  of  May, 
1900,  he  was  the  center  of  the  jollity  and  the 
inspiration  of  the  spiritual  life.    While  at  S 


t 


A    WINNKR    (i:     SOULS 


35 


University,  Mr.  Hdsc,  In  companv  with  various 
nun  of  the  Association,  visited,  during  his  four 
days'  stay,  over  four  hundred  men  j)ersonally, 
in  their  rooms,  in  tlie  laluiratories,  on  the  base- 
hall  field,  in  the  gymnasium,  in  the  fraternity 
houses,  and,  in  fact,  every  j)lace  where  men  were 
to  be  found.  The  iM'^imiitif^  of  the  chanj^e  of 
sentiment  on  the  part  of  the  .studt  tit  ho<Iy,  which 
Infore  this  time  had  l)ei  ti  an  avowed  hostility 
toward  the  Association,  is  marked  very  distinctly 
by  this  visit.  !Men  caught  a  j^limpse  of  the 
kind  of  manhood  the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association  stjinds  for,  and  it  could  not  but 
appeal  strongly  to  thcni." 


The  two  great  features  of  Rose's  work  were 
his  prayers  and  his  eager  personal  work.  Thus, 
he  wrote  to  a  friend  who  was  in  the  same  work : 
"  I  pray  that  through  you  he  w  ill  burn  a  ])ath  of 
light  in  the  eastern  colleges.  It  is  a  great  privi- 
lege to  remember  each  other  before  God  in 
prayer.  If  there  is  any  one  thing  I  covet  from 
my  friends,  it  is  that  they  will  make  mention  of 
my  need  before  the  heavenly  Father." 

In  a  little  notebook  arc  recorded  some  praycr- 


I 


36 


HORACE    W.    ROSE 


ful  meditations  of  his,  which  reveal  the  deep 
inner  life.  At  Northfield,  1899,  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  conference,  he  writes; 

"  July  1. 
"  Father — Thou  hast  led  mo  into  places  of 
large  privilege  Intel}'.  I  thank  Thee  tliat  Thou 
hast  counted  me  worlliy  of  so  much  trust.  But 
this  morning,  Father,  I  am  conscious  of  the  fact 
that  under  all  this  pressure  which  has  been  upon 
mo,  I  have  not  fountl  the  quiet  watchings  with 
Thee.  Give  me  a  place  in  the  company  of  those 
who  know  Thee  very  intimately." 

And  eight  days  later,  as  the  conference  closed, 
he  wrote  again: 

"July  9. 

"  The  Northfield  Conference  is  almost  over. 
God  has  spoken  here.  I  have  been  on  the  INIount 
of  Vision,  and  I  pledge  God  to  be  true  to  the 
vision.  But  perhaps  two  things  more  than 
others  are  stirring  the  vei'y  depths  of  my  heart. 
I  must  win  more  souls.  I  must  be  instrumental 
in  starting  some  revivals.  With  God's  grace  I 
will.  The  second  is  this:  1  have  lieard,  as  never 
before,  the  cry  of  the  Indian  student,  of  the 
students  of  Japan  and  China  and  Australia." 


A   WINNER    OF    SOULS 


37 


*ii' 


But  Rose  was  i-r<  ,i,.:ti.'  o.-  recluse.  He  was 
the  most  jovial,  h  ut y  of  men,  i;cnt  every  way 
on  winning  men  to  !>i  ;.)  ist.T.  Once,  at  a  State 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  convention 
held  in  a  college  town,  he  declined  the  provision 
made  for  his  cntcrtainincnt  at  one  of  the  best 
hotels  which  had  been  thoughtfully  arranged 
for,  because  he  wa''  to  have  a  great  deal  to  do, 
and  would  need  some  privacy,  and  he  insisted 
instead  upon  accepting  the  invitation  of  some 
athletic  men  of  unclean  lives  to  come  and  stay 
with  them. 

"  When  he  entered  the  rooms  to  which  he  was 
invited,  he  found  on  the  walls  some  pictures  that 
offended  his  sense  of  propriety,  and  rebuked  the 
fellows  by  saying  that  those  would  have  to  come 
down  if  he  was  going  to  stay  there.  Thej  re- 
torted that  '  he  would  have  to  take  them  down 
first.'  At  college  Rose  was  a  famous  wrestler. 
He  immediately  accepted  their  challenge,  and 
one  at  a  time  threw  the  four  men  in  succession, 
although  two  of  them  were  much  larger  men. 
After  the  wrestling  bout,  he  saw  a  baseball  on 
the  table,  and  said,  '  Do  you  men  play  ball.'' ' 


'    tt 


38 


HORACE    W.    HOSE 


And  they  replied,  '  Yes,  a  little'  Rose  said,  '  I 
used  to  do  some  of  it  myself.  Come  out  in  the 
yard  and  I  will  play  burn  with  you.'  And  the 
old  'Var:5ity  catcher  used  his  strong  arm  for  the 
glory  of  God,  and  soon  retired  the  group  with 
puffed  hands.  When  they  came  back  into  the 
house  Rose  said,  '  Now  you  can  see  that  you  are 
not  the  whole  thing,  what  do  you  say  about  those 
pictures.?  '  Without  any  other  words,  the  men 
took  ihe  offensive  docoi-ations  down,  and  before 
the  convention  closed  they  were  led  into  the 
Kingdom." 


In  the  fall  c,  1900  Rose  was  called  to  Cor- 
nell University,  to  be  secretary  of  the  Associa- 
tion there.  The  same  wonderful  success  at- 
tended his  work  there,  bub  in  the  winter  he  fell 
sick  with  typhoid  fever,  and  the  short,  eager 
life  went  out  at  Ithaca,  on  January  tenth,  1901. 
His  lody  was  laid  to  rest  in  :3eloit,  three  days 
later,  from  the  college  chapel,  where  his  first 
earnest  efforts  at  wimiing  men  were  made.  He 
had  never  put  off  his  service  of  Christ  to  some 
distant  day,  and  so,  when  the  all  too  sudden 
summons  came,  he  went  with  no  empty  hands. 


A    WINNER    OF    SOULS 


39 


"One  day,"  says  a  Cornell  student,  "ho  said 
to  mo,  '  You  fellows  must  be  inler'lin-^-  to  do  a 
might^^  lot  of  personal  work  when  you  once  get 
at  it,  you  are  putting  it  off  so  long,'  for  ho 
know  that  many  of  us  wiio  were  holding  con- 
spicuous places  in  the  Cornell  University 
Christian  Association  were  not  doing  j)ersonal 
work,  but  were  excusing  ourselves  from 
it  on  the  ground  th.it  we  were  enjoying 
special  advantages  in  the  equipment  for  study 
available  at  Cornell,  and  that  by  putting 
more  time  in  our  college  work,  we  would  be  pre- 
paring ourselves  for  more  effective  Christian 
sei'vice  later  in  our  lives.  I  believe  we  all  see  now 
that  we  will  never  be  in  a  place  of  more  excep- 
tional opportunities  for  effective  service  than 
while  in  collciie." 

One  of  Horace  Rose's  associates  in  his  work 
beai's  testimony,  out  of  an  intimate  knowledge, 
to  the  sincerity  and  reality  and  joyousncss  of 
the  man : 


"  Had  Rose  lived  at  a  time  when  a  nuin'r, 
name  was  indicative  of  occupation  or  character, 
he  would  have  been  called  '  Great  Heart.'     He 


40 


HORACE    W.    ROSE 


was  the  biggest-hearted  man  I  ever  knew.  The 
first  time  I  saw  him  he  greeted  me  with  that 
expansive  smile  which  college  men  will  always 
remember,  and,  shaking  my  hand  vigorously,  he 
said,  '  Well,  old  fellow,  I  am  glad  to  meet  you ! ' 
The  form  of  salutation  was  not  unusual,  but  the 
spirit  of  it  wiis.  I  knew  he  a-a*  glad.  He  was 
possessed  in  a  largo  measure  of  that  rare  grace 
of  the  Spirit,  a  genuine  love  for  souls. 

"  He  was  the  most  consistent  personal  worker 
I  have  ever  known.    He  did  not  suddenly  become 
interested  in  a  man's  welfare  when  some  special 
meeting  was  approaching,  but  he  was  always  at 
it.     It  was  a  principle  of  his  life.    At  the  Uni- 
versity of  Michigan    he  set  aside  the  hours  be- 
tween 1  and  6  P.  M.  for  social  intercourse,  which, 
with  him,  always  led  up  to  direct  personal  work. 
I  once  stopped  with  him  at  a  large  summer  hotel. 
The   first    night     he   put  himself  on   speaking 
terms  with  the  colored  bell  boys.    The  next  day 
I  saw  him  in  a  secluded  corner  with  them,  sino-- 
ing  a  lively  song  and  dancing  a  jig.     After- 
wards  he  talked  with  each  one  of  them  regard- 
ing his  relation  to  Christ,  and,  when  he  left,  you 
should  have  seen  Rose's  face  as  each  boy  clam- 


A   WINNER   OF    SOULS 


41 


bercd  on  the  platform  of  the  train  to  bid  him  an 
affectionate  farewell. 

"  He  was  possessed  of  a  true  spirit  of  humil- 
ity. One  summer  he  waited  on  the  table  at  Lake 
Geneva.  The  next  he  was  secretary  in  charge. 
In  either  case,  he  was  sen'ant  of  all.  He  was 
a  joyous  Christian. 

"  Such  a  life  is  not  measured  by  years.  One 
thinks  again  of  the  words  on  the  gravestone  of 
D.  L.  Moody :  '  He  that  doeth  the  will  of  God, 
abideth  forever.'  " 


*  i| 


'  m 


1 

1 

i 

i  ? 

)  ' 


IV 


HORACE  TRACY  PITKIN 
A    YALE  MARTYR 

OF  all  the  terrible  itiassacrcs  of  the  sum- 
mer of  1900,  in  China,  none  cost  the 
church  more  than  the  tragedy  of  Pao- 
tlngfu,  a  city  about  a  hundred  miles  southwest 
of  Peking.     When  the  Boxers  snept  up  from 
Shan-tung,    destroying   the    railroad   and   tele- 
graph lines  as  they  came,  they  shut  into  the  city, 
almost   before    the   missionaries   knew   that    the 
situation  was  perilous,  the  members  of  the  Pres- 
byterian,   Congregational,    and    China    Inland 
Missions,   who  were   at   that   time  left   in   Pao- 
tingfu;  and,  on  June  thirtieth  and  July  first, 
put  to  death  Dr.  George  Yardlcy  Taylor,  the 
Rev.  and  :Mrs.  F.  E.  Sinicox,  with  their  three 
little  children,  and  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Cortlundt  V. 
R.  Hodge,  of  the  Presbyterian  Mission;  Miss 
Gould,  Miss  Morrow,  and  the  Rev.  H.  T.  Pitkin, 

42 


i 


A   YALE    MARTYR 


43 


of  the  Congregational  ]Mi.ssion  ;  and  Mr.  Cooper, 
Mr.  Bagnall,  and  his  cliild,  of  the  China  In- 
land Mission.  Wo  have  been  uiorclfuliy  spared 
the  knowledge  of  how  they  died.  It  is  enough 
for  us  that  they  gave  up  their  lives  for  the 
cause  and  the  Saviour  they  loved,  and  that  no 
more  precious  lives  could  have  been  given. 

Horace  Tracy  Pitkin  was  born  in  Philadel- 
phia, Pennsylvania,  at  18Ji4  DeLancey  Place, 
October  twenty-eighth,  1869.  His  parentage 
was  of  New  England  stock,  his  mother  being 
the  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Cyrus  Yale,  and  a 
lineal  descendant  of  Elihu  Yale,  the  founder  of 
Yale  University.  His  father  was  one  of  a  lonjr 
line  of  Pitkins,  a  branch  of  which  had  settled 
at  an  early  day  in  Manchester,  Connecticut. 


"From  childhood,"  writes  one  v.I  i  knew  and 
lovod  him  well,  "  Horace  was  gifted  with  rare 
graces,  and  without  effort  he  won  the  love  of  all 
with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  As  a  boy  he 
respected  himself,  and  seemed  to  know  instinc- 
tively what  was  right  to  do,  and,  knowing  that, 
he  did  it.  I  do  not  remember  that  in  all  of  his 
boyhood  days  he  ever  did  anything  that  gained 


i 


44  HORACE    TRACY   PITKIN 

for  him  serious  rebuke.     And  yet  he  was  a  boy 
all  over,  just  like  thousands  of  others,  full  to 
overflowing  with  appreciation  of  fun  and  humor, 
which  made  him  the  pleasant  companion  he  al- 
ways was.     He  hated  meanness  and  everything 
that  was  underhanded,  and  could  not  understand 
how  anyone  else  could  be  mean.     He  was  apt 
to  think  that  everybody  was  as  open  and  true 
as  he  himself  was.     He  was  never  what  would  be 
called  an  intense  student.    He  did  not  love  books 
for  books'  sake.     He  never  applied  himself  to 
learning  because  it  was  a  delight  for  him  to 
do  it;  but,  both  as  boy  and  man,  if  there  was 
anything  that  ought  to  be  learned,  or  that  he 
ought  to  learn,  he  set  himself  to  work  with  dili- 
gence and  mastered  it.     But  he  was  glad  when 
the  task  was  done.     He  was  a  young  man  of 
strong  convictions,  but  very  gentle  in  urging 
them  upon  others,  winning  his  way  to  the  end 
he  desired  by  quiet  persistence.     It  was  his  am- 
bition to  take  up  for  his  life-work  the  study  of 
electricity  and  its  application  to  the  needs  of  the 
times.    He  might  have  made  a  great  success  in 
it,  for  he  had  an  unusual  aptitude  in  that  direc- 
tion.    But  sonic  words  spoken  to  him  by  his 


! 


A    YALE    MARTYR 


45 


uncle,  the  Rov.  Eliiis  R.  Bcadlo,  turned  his 
thoughts  toward  the  ministry  as  being  the  high- 
est calling  to  which  any  niun  could  dare  hope  to 
bo  called  in  this  lifo,  and  it  flashed  over  him 
that  it  might  be  God's  will  that  he  should  give 
up  his  ambition  and  take  up  this  work  in  God's 
service.  He  gave  the  matter  nuich  thought,  and 
after  many  questionings  with  himself  and  much 
prayer  that  he  might  be  guided  to  do  just  ex- 
actly what  God  wanted  of  him  in  the  matter,  he 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  must  enter  the 
ministry,  lie  at  once  turned  away  from  what 
had  been  the  ambition  of  his  life,  and  began  to 
prepare  for  preaching  Christ." 

In  his  preparation  for  his  life-work,  he  went, 
in  1884,  to  Phillips  Academy,  Exeter,  and  from 
the  beginning  h-  took  his  stand  as  a  Christian 
boy.  The  pastor  of  the  Phillips  Church  at  Exe- 
ter recalls  the  eager  face  of  the  boy  as  he  saw 
him  for  the  first  time  at  church. 


"  A  few  Sundays  later,"  says  the  pastor,  "  as 
I  was  leaving  church,  this  boy  leaned  forward 
from  the  Students'  Bible  Class  to  speak  to  me. 
*  Would  it  be  possible  for  him  to  unite  with  the 


I 


46  HORACE    TRACY    TITKIN 

cJiurch  ftt  a  communion  service  that  afternoon 
with  those  I  had  announrcd  as  about  to  confess 
their  faith?'     I  replied,  '  It  was  usual  to  have 
an  ex/unination  beforehand  by  the  church  com- 
mittee.'    A  shadow  passed  over  his  face,  and  he 
looked  down  in  silence.     Drawin^r  him  apart  into 
a  pew  by  ourselves,  I  soon  learned  that  he  had 
set  his  heart  on  be<;i„nin^  his  Exeter  school  life 
as  an  avowed  Christian,  a  step  which  his  vaca- 
tion absences  from   the  home  church  liad  not 
allowed  him  to  take." 

That  same  day  he  stood  up,  a  lad  of  sixteen, 
between  two  old  men,  one  of  seventy-two  and  the 
other  of  seventy-eiffht  years  of  acre,  and  to- 
gether the  three  gave  themselves  to  the  faith 
and  service  of  Christ  and  the  church.  When 
Horace  Pitkin  did  this,  he  did  it  without  reserve. 
His  pastor  goes  on: 

"  He  was  at  once  a  revelation  to  nie  of  how 
helpful  a  young  Christian  could  be  in  a  new 
place.  The  Christian  Endeavor  movement  soon 
started  in  our  church.  He  came  into  it  at  once 
as  one  of  its  charter  members,  and  most  heartily. 
It  was  a  joy  to  see  liini  enter  one  of  its  meetings ; 


■^^^ 


A    YALi:    MARTYR 


47 


I 


not  slippinff  Into  n  l)juk  siat,  but  comlnpf  to  tlic 
front  with  a  nod  am]  smile  of  greeting?,  and  tlun 
m.ikinpf  it  his  business  to  sec  that  everyone  had 
ii  hymn  book  and  was  well  seated.  lie  naturally 
became  the  first  president." 

In  the  school  ho  took  the  same  position,  and 
while  he  took  his  part  in  what  athletics  he  was 
fitted  for,  and  was  a  leader  of  the  social  life  of 
the  school,  he  also  wa^  president  of  the  Chris- 
tian Fraternity,  and  his  influence  worked  out 
beyond  the  school. 

With  that  spirit  and  character,  Pitkin  went 
to  Yale  in  the  fall  of  1888.  An  Andovcr  stu- 
dent who  entered  with  him  recalled  in  an  ad- 
dress at  a  memorial  service  at  \''ale  something 
of  the  college  life  of  his  friend. 

"  All  who  remember  Pitkin  in  freshman  year 
know  with  what  enthusiasm  he  entered  into  the 
joys  of  Yale.  His  deep,  true  religious  nature 
was  at  once  evident.  To  be  active  in  making 
others  happier  was  not  second  nature ;  it  was 
first  nature  to  him.  At  the  beginning  of  his 
course,  he  became  a  teacher  in  Bethany  Sunday 
school,   and   was   later   superintendent.     From 


'il 

i  I 


■    ! 


48  HORACE   TRACY   PITKIN 

the  first  he  wns  interested  and  nctivc  in  the  work 
for  men  then  hoin^  carried  on  by  college  stu- 
dents in  the  Grand  Avenue  Mission.     He  wus 
one   of   the   organizers   of    the    Boys'   Club,   I 
believe,  which  in  our  freshman  year  reached  a 
membership  of  a  thousand,  and  which  has  since 
been  handed  down  to  the  charge  of  each  fresh- 
man   cIii%.-».      He   attended    regularly   our   class 
prayer  meetings,  Wednesday  evenings  and  Sun- 
day noon,  and  almost  invariably  said  something 
helpful.     At  these  meetings  he  was  one  of  three 
who  acted  as  organist  in  turn.     He  was  surely 
no  one-sided  Christian.     He  had  no  thought  of 
dying  for  Christ ;  he  had  every  thought  of  liv- 
ing for  Christ.     And  so  he  excelled  in  all,  for  it 
was  all  part  of  his  religion.     As  a  student,  he 
was  good,  missing  Phi  Beta  Kappa  stand  by 
but  a  small  margin.     He  wrote  frequently  for 
the  college  periodicals,  and  was  an  editor  of  The 
Yale  Conront.     In  athletics,  as  a  tennis  player 
he  excelled,  and  took  an  active  interest  in  foot- 
ball and  rowing.     Like  Paul,  he  kept  himself  in 
training.     His  musical  ability  was  a  great  joy 
to  himself  and  his  friends.     His  room  always 
contained  a  piano,  and  many  a  jolly  song  and 


A  VALi:  .MAR rvu 


i!) 


^oo(l  tiiiu'  (1!<I  his  friends  Imvo  thcro.      During 
part  of  Ins  course  \w  was  n  luciiilur  of  (lie  Trii- 
vcrsity    (iloo   Clii!).      For   >()!ik-    rcisori     Tit  kin 
was    not    considcnd    ,i    wry    popular    man    in 
collc'^fo,  at  lca,t   not  in  lii.->  earlier  eollc-e  <lays. 
Perhaps  he  eared  too  little  for  ii  eertaln  kind  of 
popularity.      I   know  he  uas  hkid.      The  xere- 
tary  of  our  class  told  nie  one  day  thit  every- 
hody  liked  liini.      And  everyhody  wlio  knew  him 
loved   him.      Most    of    the    strongest    and   finest 
men    in    the    class    were    among    that    numhcr. 
And  their  number  grew.     They  were  his  true 
friends.      And  little  wonder,  for,  in  addition  to 
these   other   manly    traits,    n    happy,    I)uoyant 
spirit,   a    sunny    face,    and   joyous    disposition 
were  always  ciiaracteri>tie  of  him       So  j)rover- 
hial  was   his   success   in   overcoming  dIfJicidtles 
that  a  plirase  containing  a  very  had  pun  on  his 
name,  but  many  times  found  to  bo  true,  became 
current  among  liis  friends  early  in  Iiis  course: 
'  If  anybody   kin,   Pit   kin.'     He   was   usually 
called  '  Pit '  by  his  classmates." 


Anothex-    classmate,    who    is    now    in    China, 
writes: 


I    I 


50 


HORACE    TRACY   PITKIN 


"From  the  very  first  entrance  into  college, 
he  took  a  firm  moral  and  Christian  stand.     He 
never  drifted,  nor  followed  the  crowd,  as  many 
did,  because  it  was  the  easiest  or  the  most  popu- 
lar thing  to  do.     Conscience  was  a  law  to  him ; 
he  was  ruled  by  principles  within,  rather  than 
by  outside  forces.    This  was  one  of  the  reasons, 
perhaps  the  main  reason,  why  he  was  not  widely 
popular.     He  and  the  world  were  separate,  and 
compromise  of  any  form  was  a  thing  not  to  be 
thought    of.     This    spirit    revealed    itself    in 
many    ways.     For   instance,    it    was    the    cus- 
tom for  an  outgoing  board  of  editors  of  the  col- 
lege papers  to  give  a  banquet  to  the  incoming 
board  of  editors.     At  these  and  various  other 
banquets  wine  was  used.    Not  a  few  earnest  men 
felt  that  it  was  suflScient  to  go  and  manifest 
their  positions  by  turning  their  glasses  down. 
But    Pitkin    could    not    look    at    it    in    this 
light,    and    so    stayed    away    altogether.     It 
cost  him  much  to  do  this,  as  he  was  able  to 
enter  into  the  other  fun,  the  speeches  and  the 
songs,  with  peculiar  zest.     But  with  him  the 
cost  of  a  thing  was  never  considered  in  deter- 
mining what  was  right  and  wrung.     But  even 


.\i«V 


.t^^^'^^^mm^m^&^-m 


A   YALE    MARTYR  61 

if  men  did  not  always  agree  with  him,  and  some- 
times even  misunderstood  him,  they  always  re- 
spected and  honored  him  for  the  earnestness  of 
his  convictions  and  the  courage  he  had  to  stand 
by  them.  But  he  was  popular  with  the  few  who 
knew  him  best,  who  saw  his  eagerness  to  help 
men,  his  desire  to  minister  and  not  to  be  minis- 
tered unto." 

There    was    nothing    gloomy    or    forbidding 
about  him  in  this.     "  He  was  ever  bursting  into 
my  room,"  writes  one,  "  with  a  laugh  or  a  jovial 
story,  or  dropping  in  for  a  quiet  talk,  and  leav- 
ing behind  him  one  of  those  benedictions  which 
drift  from  a  man's  soul  into  a  fellow-soul.     I  do 
not  remember  ever  hearing  him  say  an  unkind 
word  of  anybody.     I  cannot  recall  any  action 
of  his  which  I  felt  that  I  would  like  to  change. 
There  was  about  him  an  atmosphere  of  religious 
manliness,  of  dcvoutncss  without  sanctimonious- 
ness, and  of  piety  without  a  suspicion  of  hypoc- 
risy or  cant." 

It  was  at  Northficld,  in  the  summer  at  the  end 
of  his  frcshmun  year,  that  the  missionary  pur- 
pose settled  into  his  will.    He  has  himself  stated 


1  t 


1  ty 


^'KT'^: rm'W^m^  i. 


62 


HORACE    TRACY    PITKIN 


\l 


I  f 


i  f 


his  reasons  for  joining  the  Student  Volunteer 
Movement : 

"  On  Round  Top,  at  the  Northfield  Summer 
School  of  1889,  I  signed  the  declaration.     For 
two  years  a  vague  idea  had  possessed  me  that 
I  might  possibly  become  a  missionary.     I  had 
learned  much  of  the  Volunteer  Movement  during 
the  conference,  but  had  not  understood  the  card 
until  that  evening  when,  after  hearing  a  care- 
ful explanation,  I  made  the  decision.     Why  did 
I  make  it?    Simply  because  I  could  not  see  why 
I  shouldn't.     The  question  came,  not  why  pur- 
pose to  go,  but  why  not  purpose  to  go.?     The 
presumption   is    in   favor  of   foreign   missions. 
As  I  saw  nothing  that  stood  in  the  way  of  my 
accepting  the  challenge,  I  did  accept  it,  believ- 
ing that  God  had  used  my  reasoning  powers  to 
that  end.    I  had  just  finished  my  freshman  year 
at  Yale.     Of  course,  at  the  time  I  had  no  con- 
ception of  the  great  advantages  of  an  early  de- 
cision which  confront  the  student  to-day.     My 
decision  meant  to  me  that  I  had  taken  a  stand 
and  would  go  if  sent,  not  that  I  intended  to 
move  forward  to  equip  myself  spiritually  and  in- 
tellectually, and  to  go  unless  the  way  should  be 


:%A^ 


A    YALE    MARTYR 


53 


finally  blocked.  Multiplying  my  life  by  aiding 
others  to  find  the  Lord's  will  in  conclusive  think- 
ing never  entered  my  head." 

It  soon  entered  his  head,  however,  and  led 
by    his    purpose,    he    went,    after    graduatioa 
from   Yale  in    1892,   to   Union   Seminary   for 
two  years,  and  then  for  one  year  he  traveled 
about  through  the  colleges  and  schools  of  the 
country,  as  one  of  the  traveling  secretaries  of 
the  Student  Volunteer  Movement  for  F(    eio-n 
Missions,  and  then  returned  to  the  seminary.    In 
1891   he  offered  himself  as  a  missionary  to  the 
American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign 
Missions,    was     accepted    with    Miss     Letitia 
Thomas,  who  was  a  graduate  of  Mt.  Holyokc, 
and  to  whom  he  was  married  on  October  sixth, 
1896,  and  on  November  eleventh,   1896,   they 
sailed  from  New  York  for  China.     On  the  way 
out  they  visited  the  Holy  Land,  Egypt,  and 
India,  reaching  Tientsin  in  :May,  1897.     They 
were  settled  in  their  own  station  of  Paotingfu 
at  the  end  of  September. 

Pitkin  had  means  of  his  own,  but  gave  up  the 
idea  of  being  a  self-supporting  missionary  in 
order  to  help  create  more  interest  at  home  by 


I 


.I:-'- 


■^■Tr'>^-y*  *  - 


^2r-»:i-    -  ■jePffifSr_^jra. .  -•(' 


i*ij^^^j*J^ 


54 


HORACE    TRACY    PITKIN 


i! 


!i 


i 


being  the  niissioimry  representative  of  the  Pil- 
grinj  Church  of  Clcvehuul.  He  paid  to  the 
work,  however,  what  the  church  gave  for  his 
salary.  He  faithfully  corresponded  with  the 
church,  writing  twenty-five  letters  to  it  be- 
tween September  twenty-ninth,  1896,  and  May 
seventh,  1900.  These  and  the  other  letters  home 
would  make  a  small  volume.  They  are  full  of 
the  first  experiences  of  a  new  missionary's  life, 
the  language,  the  people,  their  novel  customs, 
the  new  home  in  a  strange  land,  then  the  return 
to  America  for  a  brief  visit  of  Mrs.  Pitkin  and 
the  baby  boy.  Then  came  the  terrible  summer 
of  1900. 

In  a  Round  Robin  letter  to  Yale  friends  in 
Asia,  written  April  twenty-seventh,  1900,  he 
described  the  situation: 


^^Ai 


"We're  getting  the  rumors  of  war  here  all 
right.  You  know  these  wretched  '  Boxer '  or 
'Big  Prtord  Society'  troubles  in  Shan-tung  have 
been  making  life  miserable  all  winter.  The 
society  has  a  fixed  purpose  to  root  out  foreign 
devils  and  exterminate  their  religion  and  con- 
verts.    From  plundering  Christians,  they   ad- 


^A^^^iitlU*' 


-ji^:i^t2S^Ci5^ 


A    YALE    MARTYR 


55 


vanccd  to  whole  villages  or  even  single  rich 
heathen,  demanding  ransom  or  utter  wiping 
out.  Lately  the  movement  has  been  spreading 
up  into  our  province,  until  we  are  surrounded, 
and  even  districts  north  of  Peking  are  infected. 
Now,  only  ten  miles  from  here,  the  Boxers  are 
assembling  in  great  numbers,  and,  though 
watched  by  a  handful  of  troops,  are  bound  to 
fak  a  big  Roman  Catholic  station  near  by, 
then  another,  and  then  Paotingfu.  At  present 
the  city  sends  us  fifteen  soldiers  at  night  for  our 
guard.  Warships  are  at  Tientsin,  but  if  any 
troops  should  be  landed,  it  would  be  too  hot  for 
us  here  at  once.  Present  status  is  probably 
best." 

Li  his  last  letter  to  the  Pilgrim  Church,  dated 
May  seventh,  he  spoke  playfully  of  :Mrs.  Pit- 
kin's return,  and  of  the  effect  meeting  her  again 
would  have  on  the  church: 

"  And  won't  it  make  China  seem  near  to  j-ou 
all !— and  America  to  us !  And  here's  only  one 
objection  to  it— it  will  take  away  from  our 
heads  the  halo  that  some  of  you  have  persisted 
in  placing  there,  and  you  will  be  disappointed 


■i  I 
i 


m- 


n^sf^:^^^--;:* 


»   • 


t    i 


56 


IIORACK    TRACY    PITKIN 


in  finding  us  to  be  'just  like  connnon  folks.* 
*Huh!  nothing  piirticulurly  like  nmrtyrdoin  in 
this  foreign  work ! '  you  will  say.  And  you're 
right !  We  have  been  trying  to  tell  you  that 
all  along,  and  we  are  sending  this  said  letter  and 
postscript  home  direct,  and  not  through  some 
dead  letter  office,  because  wc  don't  believe  in 
martyrs  either ! " 

Alas!  in  less  than  eight  weeks  he  had  won 
the  martyr's  crown.  On  July  first,  the  Boxers, 
having  already  killed  the  China  Inland  and  the 
Presbyterian  missionaries,  attacked  the  Congre- 
gational compound,  and  Mr.  Pitkin  fell  defend- 
ing the  two  ladies  of  the  mission,  who  were  then 
taken  into  the  temple  Chi-shcng  and  slain. 
When,  after  the  subsidence  of  the  Boxer  storm, 
his  body  was  recovered  for  burial,  the  hands  were 
found  not  bound,  but  uplifted  as  if  in  prayer. 
And  one  of  his  last  messages  was  the  word  home 
to  America  about  his  little  boy,  praying  that 
when  lie  was  grown  he  should  come  back  to 
China  to  take  his  father's  place.  The  fearless 
life  ended  fearlessly,  as  it  had  been  fearlessly 
lived.     Wlio  follows  in  its  train? 


■%Ai 


V 

W.VLTER  LO^^'RIE 
A    GEXTLEMAX    OF    STREXGTH 

W.VLTER  LOWRIE  inherited  Ins  name 
from  his  grandfather,  the  Hon.  Wal- 
ter Lowrie,  who  represented  the  State 
of  Pennsylvania  in  the  United  States  Senate 
from  1818  to  1824,  and  who  resigned  the  posi- 
tion of  Secretary  of  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States  in  1836,  to  accept  the  position  of  Secre- 
tary of  the  Presbyterian  Board  of  Fortign 
Missions. 

The  grandfather  died  in  1868,  having  for 
thirty-two  years  sened  as  Secretary  of  the 
Board.  Three  of  his  sons  went  as  foreign  mis- 
sionaries— Walter  M.  Lowrie,  who  was  killed  by 
pirates  when  crossing  from  Shanghai  to  Ningpo, 
in  1847:  Reuben  Lowrie,  who  worked  in  China 
for  six  years,  and  whose  widow  and  son  are  still 
missionaries  at  Paotingfu,  and  John  C.  Lowrie, 
whose  health  required  him  to  return  from  India 

67 


^  \ 


i  I 


58 


WALTER    LOWRIE 


in  1836,  and  who  then  became  with  his  father  a 
Secretary  of  the  Board,  dying  in  Orange  in 
1900,  at  the  age  of  eighty-two.  Another  son, 
J.  Roberts  Lowrie,  was  the  father  of  Wal- 
ter, of  whom  this  sketch  is  written.  Walter's 
n'othcr  was  Miss  Matilda  Hamill  Nassau,  sister 
01  Dr.  Nassau  and  Miss  Isabel  Nassau,  who 
have  been  missionaries  in  Africa  for  more  than 
a  generation. 

On  both  sides,  accordingly,  Walter  Lowrie  in- 
herited the  deepest  missionary  spirit  and  the 
truest  Christian   character.      His   grandfather 
was  one  of  the  great  men  of  the  Church,  trusted 
and  beloved  of  all,  a  man  of  solid  judgment, 
of  far-seeing  faith.     His  father  was  a  lawyer 
whose  health  forbade  active  practice,  but  who 
took  charge  of  the  business  of  the  firm  of  Lyon, 
Shorb  &  Co.,  at  that  time  the  largest  iron  manu- 
facturing firm  in  the  United  States.     To  be  in 
the  midst  of  his  work  he  selected  a  beautiful  spot 
at  Warriorsmark,  in  Huntingdon  County,  and 
there  spent  his    spare    hours    with    books    and 
plants.    W^hen  once  he  visited  the  great  Germai 
forests,  he  was  delighted  to  find  "  that  he  had  a 
greater  number  of   varieties   of   trees   planted 


{  'V. 


A   GENTLEMAN    OF    STRENGTH     59 

under  his  direction  in  the  grounds  surrounding 
his  own  family  mansion  in  Pennsylvania  than 
could  bo  found  in  any  of  these  celebrated  for- 
eign forests."  His  qualities  of  modesty,  pa- 
tience, gentleness,  energy,  vivacity,  flawless 
fidelity-,  and  prayerfulness,  and  large  and  kindly 
interest  in  life,  Walter  inherited  from  his  father. 
Born  in  Warriorsmark  on  December  thirty- 
first,  1872,  Walter  grew  up  in  the  freedom 
and  joy  and  purity  of  his  father's  ample 
country  home  and  the  open  air.  "  He 
was  always  a  keen  lover  of  nature.  In  his 
boyhood  days  this  was  evident  in  his  interest 
in  animal  life,  especially  birds.  He  read  about 
them  in  Audubon  and  in  other  books,  and  be- 
came very  familiar  with  the  manners  and  habits 
of  all  the  species  indigenous  to  the  Central 
Pennsylvania  region.  He  and  his  two  younger 
brothers  made  a  very  complete  and  Interesting 
collection  of  the  eggs  of  these  native  birds,  and 
another  one  of  butterflies.  In  later  years  this 
interest  extended  to  plant  life,  especially  to 
trees  and  plants  In  compositions  which  produce 
fine  scenery.  This  was  greatly  increased  by 
his  trip  abroad.     In  England  he  spent  much  of 


60 


WALTER    LOWHIE 


his  time  in  the  country,  where  the  hirge  estates 
and  the  well-kept  cottage  yards  were  equally  a 
source  of  continual  pleasure."  A  letter  of  hia 
to  one  of  his  brothers  reveals  his  interest  in 
birds: 

"  Soon  after  you  left  for  college  I  got  our 
mutual  friend  the  shotgun  out,  and  commenced 
a  series  of  experiments  with  a  view  to  making 
its  kicking  proclivities  less  apparent.  A  con- 
sultation with  the  young  Coxlet  revealed  the 
facts  of  tht  jase,  and,  acting  on  his  suggestions, 
I  have  loaded  the  shells  myself  in  such  a  way  as 
to  make  shooting  a  pleasure  and  not  a  kicking 
match. 

"  Must  tell  you  about  a  shooting  excursion  a 
month  or  so  ago.  I  had  been  out  in  Hutchin- 
son's woods  with  the  shotgun  and  had  missed 
everything  shot  at,  when,  on  returning  through 
the  larch  lot,  saw  a  fine  flecker  and  a  robin  light 
on  the  wild  cherry  tree  near  the  old  pond. 
Although  I  liardly  thought  of  hitting  either  of 
them,  I  let  drive  with  one  of  those  heavily  loaded 
shells,  and  to  my  surprise  saw  the  flecker  fall 
toward  the  ground,  but,  recovering  itself,  zig- 


-rM 


A   GENTLEMAN    OF   STRENGTH    61 

za^gcd  off  to  a  low  larch  limb,  and  although  it 
had  part  of  its  beak  knocked  off  and  was  shot 
clean  through  the  breast,  it  stuck  on  to  that 
tree  until  I  hit  it  with  the  broad  side  of  a  flat 
stone,  when  it  fell  to  the  ground;  even  then  I 
had  to  pierce  its  brain  twice  with  a  knife  blade, 
feeling  all  the  time  like  a  murderer,  before  it 
decided  that  life  was  no  longer  living.  It  was 
a  fine,  large,  fat  bird,  and  on  reading  up  Audu- 
bon, found  that  fleckers  are  good  to  cat,  and 
very  hard  to  kill  even  when  shot,  which  latter 
fact  I  was  ready  to  believe.  The  flecker  was 
such  a  handsome  bird  that  I  skinned  it  after  a 
fashion,  and  dried  it ;  but  owing  to  ignorance  in 
the  arts  of  taxidcnny,  did  not  succeed  very  well. 
I've  since  procured  a  book  on  Taxidermy,  and  as 
soon  as  my  knee  will  permit,  want  to  try  a  little 
experimenting.  I  wish  that  you  were  here  now, 
that  we  might  go  hunting  and  collecting  to- 
gether, for  it's  rare  sport." 

No  one  knows  when  Walter  became  a  Chris- 
tian, Probably  he  always  was  one.  His  first 
desire  to  confess  Christ  was  expressed  in  the 
summer   of    1885,    a    few    months    before   his 


J 


,1 


6S 


WALTKH    LOWHir, 


fnlhor's  (K-atli,  nm\  lie  united  with  tlie  Iiome 
cluireh  in  Wurriorsnmrk  a  few  months  after  in 
188(5.  But  he  hud  t)een  mid  eontinued  to  l)e  n 
Christian  not  made  by  revolution,  but  born  by 
right. 

"He  soiree  hid  need  to  doff  tils  pride  or  slougli  tlie 

dro>s  of  riirfh; 
E'en  as  he  trod  tliat  day  to  God,  so  walked  lie  from  his 

l)irtli. 
In  simpleness  and  gentleness  and  honor  and  elean  mirth." 

From  his  boyliood  he  had  been  bred  to  be  a 
gentleman  and  a  Christian. 

"  One  summer,  years  ago,"  writes  one  of  his 
childhood  friends,  "  several  youn<,'  people,  some 
guests  of  the  Warriorsmark  fumily,  and  the 
Lowric  boys  were  waiting  outside  the  Tyrone 
station  for  a  train.  A  wretched-looking  woman, 
with  a  little  baby  in  her  arms  and  carrying  a 
traveling  bag,  came  past,  with  another  little 
child  barely  able  to  walk  clinging  to  her  skirts 
and  following  as  best  it  could.  One  of  us  only 
half  in  earnest,  probably  yet  thinking  it  was  like 
Walter,  said  'There's  your  chance,'  and  without 
hesitation  he  spoke  to  the  woman,  picked  up  the 
child,  and  carried  it  over  to  the  branch  train 


i 

J 


A    (IHN'riJCMAN    OF    STRENGTH     m 


niu\  intn  tli 


0  car.  It  U  /iluiiys  riiHirr  crowdid 
r.)uml  tlio  .sfation  in  t|„.  aftniioon,  and  WaUer 
canio  !)ack  lookinj?  a  lilHo  f.mli,!,,  not  becaiiso 
111'  niindiMl  hvmfT  svvu  hy  m)  many,  liiit  rntlior, 
I  think.  l)ocausc  wo  conltj  not  lulp  slu)\vin<r  that 
wo  tlioii^rlit  It  fino  of  liim,  and  he  had  a  horror 
of  showing  ofl".'' 

In  1889  Walter  went  to  I.awrenroville  for  a 
year,  and  then  entered  Princeton  in  the  fall  of 
1890,  gradufttinpf  with  the  class  of  1894.  He 
was  n  boy  like  other  boys  in  his  sport ivoness  and 
playful  mirth.  Thus  he  wrote  home  jokingly 
with  reference  to  the  purchase  of  a  bicycle,  and 
the  errands  he  and  his  brothers  had  formerly 
tossed  up  to  sec  who  would  run  from  their  large 
place  to  the  village  or  to  Tyrone,  some  miles 
away : 

"  I  think  that  perhaps  the  greatest  blessing 
that  this  wheel  can  give  us  is,  that  It  will  do 
away  with  that  curse  so  prevalent  among  the 
younger  members  of  the  Lowrie  family— with 
gambling.  Ah,  that  so  fair  a  name— a  name 
that  has  stood  for  centuries,  yea,  for  cycles,  as 
a  synonym  for  all  that  is  pure  and  good  and 


I! 


l-A 


i      t 


64 


WALTER    LOWRIE 


true !  Oh !  that  such  a  name  should  be  defamed 
by  such  an  evil  as  *  tossing  up '  to  see  who  has 
to  take  the  sunny  side  of  the  tennis  court.  For 
it  is  held  by  some  that  this  is  a  true  syllogism. 
'  Tossing  up '  involves  principle  of  chance. 
Gambling  involves  principle  of  chance.  There- 
fore, *  tossing  up  *  is  gambling.  Now,  if  we 
had  a  bicycle  to  ride  on  for  errands,  etc.,  we 
all  would  be  willing  to  go  on  the  errand,  and  so 
we  would  not  have  to  toss  up  to  see  who  the  un- 
lucky fellow  was." 

And  again  he  writes  gratefully  of  a  barrel  of 
apples  and  sickle  pears  sent  from  home:  "My 
thanks  to  you  are  double,  inasmuch  as  the  quan- 
tity is  double  what  I  expected.  I  will  also  pre- 
pare to  give  you  my  sickle-st  thanks  for  your 
appcarant  mistake  in  sending  in  addition  some 
pearfectly  lovely  pears,  wherefore  I  feel  it  im- 
pearitive  to  pcartake  of  a  peart  icularly  large 
amount  of  said  pears  after  their  pearilous 
journey." 

Eager  and  interested  in  all  the  concerns  of 
college  life,  he  was  specially  ready  to  share  in 
its  religious  activity.    In  his  junior  year,  there 


I 

i 


A    GENTLEMAN    OF    STRENGTH     65 

was  some  special  awakening,  and  he  threw  him- 
self heartily  into  it.  He  sent  homo  a  list  of 
names  of  men  for  whom  ho  was  specially  anx- 
ious, men  of  promise  in  the  class,  whose  en- 
trance upon  a  life  of  Christian  faith  and  serv- 
ice would  mean  so  much  to  themselves,  and  to 
the  world.  And  he  writes  as  the  meetings  were 
about  to  close: 

"The  meetings  during  the  last  week  have 
been  very  lar'xely  attended,     indeed,   for  the 
last  three  nife     <  the  audience  room  of  Murray 
Hall  would  not  hold  the  cr  \vd,  and  many  had  to 
stand  in  the  vestibule.     Indeed  religion  was  the 
thing  talked  of  all  over  the  campus,  in  the  rooms 
and  everywhere ;  it  simply  permeated  the  entire 
college.     Everybody  was  talking  about  it  and 
was  set  thinking,  and  if  it  had  not  been  for  these 
examinations  which  will  be  upon  us  so  soon,  the 
meetings  would  have  been  continued  still  longer, 
but  the  fellows  have  put  off  their  studies  so  long 
now  that  they  cannot  afford  to  keep  up  the 
time  and  strain  of  these  meetings  just  at  present. 
Meetings  will  be  held,  however,  every  evening  for 
about  twenty  minutes,  from  6.40  to  7.00  p.  m., 
simply  prayer  meetings  for  the  fellows.     Per- 


i. 

! 
I 

I 


^/t^^rMi 


G6 


WALTER    LOVVIUE 


haps,  nftcr  examinations,  some  time  in  February, 
another  attempt  may  be  made  to  hold  special 
services  again  ;  Moody  may  bo  here  at  that  time. 
"  About  thirty  or  thirty-five  fellows  have  come 
out  and  taken  a  stand  for  (Mirist  since  the  college 
opened,  as  a  result  of  these  special  meetings. 
About  a  dozen  fellows  in  our  class  alone ;  so  I 
think  that  '94  got  the  greatest  blessing  of  all. 
There  are  lots  of  fellows  who  arc  seriously  think- 
ing of  changing  who  have  not  taken  any  open 
steps  to  show  it.  It  seems  a  great  pity  to  close 
the  meetings  now,  when  the  interest  is  at  its  very 
highest,  but  the  exams,  demand  it.  We  hope 
that  the  interest  may  still  be  sustained,  and  the 
work  continue  to  go  on  in  a  quiet  way  through 
these  next  three  weeks.  The  Christian  fellows 
in  college  have  been  awakened,  encouraged,  and 
made  friendly  to  each  other  in  a  wonderful  way. 
One  could  not  have  believed  that  such  a  change 
in  this  college  could  ever  happen  last  year,  but 
it  has  happened  in  answer  to  about  a  million 
prayers,  and  the  college  is  now  turned  inside  out, 
right  side  foremost,  right  side  up." 


Not  content  with  working  earnestly  in  college, 


i^^^.  i^m^'0M 


■-  -^.. 


•-«'• 


•JrSU.-i- 


:'ya.   r:  ■?■:-.. 


f^ 


A   GENTLEMAN    OF    STRENGTH     67 

he  wont  off  to  Lan.bcrtvlllc  to  carry  the  spirit 
of  awakening  there,  and  with  two  companions, 
the  Rev.  Charles  E.  Patton,  now  a  missionary 
in  China,  and  the  Rev.  C.  11.  Watson,  now 
Secretary  of  the  Board  of  Foreign  Missions 
of  the  United  Presbyterian  Church,  he  carried 
on  a  h'ttle  mission  at  Cedar  Grove,  three  miles 
from  Princeton.  The  Cedar  Grove  meetings 
closed  with  what  he  called  «  a  whopping  praise 
service." 

He  did  not  neglect  other  interests,  taking  a 
prominent  place  in  the  oratorical  contests. 

The  fall  after  he  left  college   he  went  to  Al- 
legheny   Institute,    at    Roanoke,    Virginia,    to 
teach.    It  was  a  small  school  for  boys,  and  while 
the  atmosphere  and  local  ideals  were  strange  to 
him,  he  fitted  in  as  he  did  everywhere,  and  made 
liiniself  helpful  and  liked.     The  novel  experi- 
ence of  receiving  his  first  month's  salary  greatly 
pleased  him.     « I  received  the  first  payment  of 
my  salary  on  Saturday,  and  it  was  certainly  a 
novel  sensation  to  feel  that  I  was  making  my 
own  living,  and  also  laying  a«ay  some  of  my 
own    earnings."      He    enjoyed    immensely    his 
work  in  the  school,  "  but  the  tremendous  amount 


.i:fc..^siKi:^-^P*?^ 


68 


WALTER  LOWRIE 


of  work  and  energy  lie  put  into  it  was  too  much 
for  him,  and  with  his  usual  conscientiousness  he 
gave  up  ard  came  home,  none  too  soon,  for  he 
narrowly  escaped  very  serious  illness  that 
summer.  His  frail  hody  was  a  great  trial  to  his 
energetic  and  ambitious  spirit,  but  he  made  it  a 
matter  of  conscience  to  curb  his  ambitions  and 
conserAc  his  strength,  and  it  was  wonderful 
sometimes  to  see  hun  give  up  the  things  he 
wanted  and  could  have  attained,  because  he  knew 
liis  future  usefulness  would  be  impaired  if  he 
risked  too  great  a  strain  upon  his  physical 
endurance." 

The  calm  wisdom  of  his  ancestry  ran  in  him, 
and  he  wanted  to  work  long  for  men.  The 
headmaster  wished  to  retain  him,  relieving  him 
of  work  so  as  to  make  his  burden  lighter,  but  he 
would  not  listen  to  such  suggestion. 


"I  told  him  that,  while  I  appreciated  his 
kindness,  I  would  not  consider  it  fair  to  the  other 
teachers  that  I  should  be  made  an  exception  of, 
and  granted  so  many  privileges,  when  they  had 
to  work  on  as  usual.  That  I  could  not  endure 
being  treated  as  an  invalid,  and,  finally,  that  as 


! 


I 


A    GENTLEMAN    OF    STRENGTU     69 

long  as  I  stayed  hero  I  would  bo  sure  to  get 
mixed  in  some  sort  of  work,  and  that  tlie  only 
thing  for  me  to  do  was  to  resign.  This  is  a 
conclusion  that  I  have  conic  to  after  mature  de- 
liberation, and  I  think  that  it  is  the  right  one." 

He  stayed,  of  course,  however,  until  his  suc- 
cessor was  secured.     Then  he  went  homo  for  a 
year  to  lay  up  strength  for  his  future  work,  but 
he  was  busy,  nevertheless,  always  about  his  Mas- 
ter's business.    During  this  winter,  a  young  man 
whom  he  had  been  trying  to  bring  to  a  decision 
for  Christ  loft  the  village,  and  his  brother  came 
in  great  distress  to  Walter,  saying  his  brother 
had  gone  to  a  neighboring  town  to  accept  a  posi- 
tion as  barkeeper.     Not  a  moment  did  Walter 
waste,  though  it  was  an  unwelcome  task,  requir- 
ing great  tact,  but  took  the  next  train,  found  the 
young  man,  and  won  him  to  a  right  decision. 
Others  were  won  to  Christ  during  this  year  at 
home,  and  in  a  long  letter  to  one  of  his  brothers 
at  college,  Walter  tells  of  the  different  ones  who 
have  been  reached  and  nc^d  help,  and  asks  him 
to  write  to  several,  encouraging  them  in  their 
new  life. 


It 


70 


WALTER    TX)VVRIE 


I   , 


"  There  is  no  doubt,"  lie  writes,  "  tlint  the 
Spirit  of  God  has  been  working  mightily  in  this 
neighborhood.     I've  been  praying  and  working 

for  old  man this  week  ;  in  faet,  a  number  of 

people  arc  interested  in  him ;  he  is  a  hard  old 
stick,  but  is  evidently  troubled  about  himself 
more  than  he  would  like  to  admit  to  anybody. 

Have  also  spoken  with  young  S •     He  has 

been  interested,  too,  but  keeps  putting  the  ques- 
tion off.  K is  also  interested.  I've  men- 
tioned these  persons  and  events  to  you,  because 
your  prayers  joining  with  the  volume  of  prayer 
going  up  at  this  time  can  accomplish  a  lot. 
Charlie  Patton  wrote  a  letter  to  A congrat- 
ulating him  on  his  becoming  a  Christian,  the 

otherday,and  it  seemed  to  help  and  pleaseA 

so  much  that  I  determined  to  tell  you  about  it, 

and,  if  you  think  best,  drop  A and  J , 

too,  a  few  lines.  Human  sympathy  is  just  about 
the  best  and  greatest  thing  in  the  world,  and 

both  A and  J need  all  they  can  get  at 

this  time.  Although  you  do  not  know  either  of 
them  very  well,  yet  you  will  now  often  see  them 
in  connection  with  our  church  when  you  are  at 
home,  and  the  sooner  they  feel  that  you  are  their 


A    GFA'TLEMAN    OF    STUKNCiTir     71 

frioml,  the  more  they  will  appm-iate  you  later 
on.  However,  this  is  just  a  suggestion,  and 
you  can  do  what  you  think  best." 

It  was  work  like  this  that  endeared  him  to 
many  in  his  home  town,  though  few  others  knew 
of  it.  His  own  family  did  not  know  of  it  until  he 
was  gone.  He  was  ready  to  praise  the  work  of 
others,  but  reticent  about  his  own.  As  his  sister 
writes : 

"One  of  the  many  ways  in  which  this  has 
been    revealed    to   us    was    a    little    impromptu 
memorial  service  lield  in  the  Methodist  Church 
at  the  hour  of  morning  service  on  the  Sabbath 
when  his  dear  body  was   resting  for  the  last 
time   in   his   home   across   the   street   from   the 
church.    We  did  not  know  of  it,  as  it  was  spon- 
taneous,  no  prearrangcmcnt,  and   none  of  us 
were  there ;  but  one  of  the  neighbors  told  us  how 
one  after  another  rose  and  testified  to  his  in- 
fluence in  their  lives.     Our  own  people  loved  to 
hear  him  preach,  and  some  even  measured  the 
preaching  of  others  by  his,  saying,  '  That's  the 
best  sermon  we've  had — except  Walter's.' 

"  One  of  the  traits  that  made  Walter  so  lov- 


7« 


WALTER    LOWRIE 


' 


t  ■ 


f  i 


able  was  his  warm  appreciation  of  the  efforts  of 
others,  and  his  eagerness  to  express  it,  whether 
it  was  appreciation  of  a  sennon  just  heard,  or 
words  of  encouragement  for  the  crude  attempts 
of  a  beginner  in  golf  whom  he  might  be 
coaching. 

"  Just  as  marked  was  his  reluctance  to  speak 
of  anything  he  ever  did  himself,  so  that  not  till 
he  was  gone  did  we  realize  how  constant  and 
faithful  had  been  his  efforts  to  uplift  those  about 
him,  and  not  till  then  did  we  appreciate  the  un- 
conscious power  of  his  life." 

In  the  fall  of  1896  Walter  entered  Princeton 
Theological  Seminary,  and  spent  three  years 
there.  He  liked  it  thoroughly,  but,  as  always, 
he  worked  not  for  the  present  only.  He  wrote 
home: 

"  I  am  only  regretting  that  the  days  here  are 
going  by  so  very  fast.  Of  course,  I  wouldn't 
want  to  stay  here  u.ways,  even  if  it  were  a 
paradise,  for  there  isn't  the  field  for  work  and 
usefulness  in  the  preparatory  stage  that  every 
man  ought  to  look  forward  to  in  real  life.  But 
one  will  certainly  miss   the  fine  fellowship  of 


¥    I 


m 


A   GENTLEMAN    OF    STRENGTH     73 

kindred  spirits,  and  particularly  these  special 
friendships,  when  he  gets  out  into  the  world.  I 
suppose  that  one  ought  to  make  the  most  of  them 
when  he  can." 

One  of  his  summer  vacations  he  spent  in  the 
bituminous  coal  region  of  Pennsylvania,  work- 
ing in  the  little  church  at  Winburne,  Clearfield 
County.  He  wrote  from  Winburne,  July  30, 
1898,  to  a  friend: 

"  Ever  since  leaving  Princeton  in  June,  I  have 
been  up  here  among  the  Allegheny  hills,  at  this 
little  mining  village.     My  work  closes  here  on 
the  7th  of  August,  and  then  my  vacation  will 
really  begin.     I  have  enjoyed  the  work  here  very 
much,  have  gotten  on  well  with  the  people,  and 
they  have  treated  me  white.     Most  of  them  are 
mmers,  rough  in  appearance  and  manners,  but 
good-htdrtcd,  generous,  kind,  and  quite  intelli- 
gent.    I  preach  twice  on  Sunday,  once  here  and 
once  in  a  neighboring  town  larger  than  Win- 
burne.    The  people  have  been  without  regular 
preaching  for  over  two  years,  so  you  can  imagine 
how  hungry  some  of  them  are,  and  how  indiffer- 
ent others  are.     Of  course,  Sunday  schools  have 


.  -afrw        iiiij   ■'  I'  III  I  iwiHiii  iii'^iwi  t ii"  1        II    I  I  MrrnFb 


^Mm 


i] 


'    I 


74 


WALTER    LOWKIE 


Ix'on  kept  up,  wc  hnvo  a  thriving  one,  and  occa- 
sional supply  preaching;  but  the  people  cer- 
tainly 1  ive  learned  to  appreciate  religious 
services.  Last  Sunday,  a  scorcher,  the  little 
church  was  full. 

"  In  the  neighboring  town  I  preach  in  a 
deserted  Episcopal  church,  whose  sanctum  sanc- 
torum has  been  boarded  off  from  unholy  hands, 
so  that  I  have  to  preach  from  a  sort  of  box  stall 
arrangement.  Oh !  one  learns  batches  and  gobs 
of  experience  up  here.  I  have  enjoyed  the  work  ; 
it  has  helped  iie,  and  I  have  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  I  have  accomplished  some  good." 

His  people  wanted  him  to  stay  here,  but 
he  refused  to  do  so  because  an  older  man  was 
ready  to  fake  tin-  place,  and  he  would  never 
stand  in  the  way  of  anyone  else.  This  same 
principle  controlled  him  when,  at  the  close  of  his 
seminary  course,  he  was  called  to  be  assistant  to 
the  H(  V.  Wilton  Merle  Smith,  D.  D.,  in  the  Cen- 
tral Presbyterian  Church  of  New  York  city. 
He  would  not  accept  the  place  so  long  as  there 
was  any  chance  of  their  calling  another  man. 

He  took  up  his  work  in  the  Central  Church  at 


M, 


A    GENTLEMAN    t)F    STHENGTll 


i5 


once,  in  May,  1899,  nnd  jrnat  Hiings  were  ex- 
ported of  him.     As  Dr.  Warfield,  of  Princeton, 
wrote  of  him  when  he     id  gone:  "  Yon  know  wo 
all  knew  and  loved  Mr.  Lowrie  here,  and  I  can- 
not think  without  sharp  pangs  that  I  shall  not 
see  his  face  again.    We  had  hoped  —confidently 
expected — such  jreac  things  from  him!     Well, 
to  go  and  stand  before  the  Father's  face  is  pi  r- 
haps  the  greatest  thing  of  all !  "    He  began  at 
once  to  fulfill  the  expectations  which  had  Ix  ^n 
formed  for  him.     He  was  never  too  busy  to  do 
Christ's  business.     "We  could  never  come  in 
touch  with  him,"  wrote  one  whom  he  had  often 
helped,  "  without  feeling  the  better  for  it."  The 
children  of  the  church  at  once  understood  him, 
pronounced  him  genuine,  and  loved  liim.     "  He 
used  to  come  to  our  Junior  society  meetings 
twice  a  month,"  writes  one  of  the  church  work- 
ers, "  to  give  the  children  a  special  lesson.    And 
the  little  heads  were  all  the  time  turning  to  look 
for  him  to  come,  and  one  time,  when  he  had  to 
leave  early  a  dear  little  child  turned  and  said, 
'  Isn't  he  just  lovely.?  '  "    This  les.on  was  in  the 
Catechism,  and  it  was  evidence  of  his  power  that 
there  was  no  lesson  the  children  looked  forward 


76 


VVALTKR    LOWHIE 


i    i 


to  with  such  real  eagerness  and  impatience  as 
this  one  with  him.  He  was  indefatigable  in  his 
calling  on  people.  There  was  one  invalid  who 
had  been  confined  to  her  bed  for  sixtcon  years. 
She  had  never  seen  a  bicycle.  So  Walter  carried 
his  up  to  her  room  and  took  it  apart  to  show  it 
to  her.  Twice  a  month  he  wont  to  see  htr,  to 
bring  sunshine  across  her  shadowed  life.  He 
had  a  large  Bible  class,  and  in  all  his  self- 
effacing,  efficient  ways  he  proved  a  helper  in 
deed  and  truth,  so  that  Dr.  Smith  could  say  at 
the  memorial  service:  "If  I  had  hunted  the 
world  over  for  an  assistant,  I  could  not  have 
found  one  who  would  have  fulfilled  every  hope  I 
had  in  such  a  position  more  thorouglily  than 
Walter  Lowric." 

Three  things  no  one  could  fail  to  see  in  Wal- 
ter Lowrie — his  honor,  his  purity,  and  his  merry 
service  of  others.  The  idea  that  no  young  man 
can  live  a  blameless  life  was  absolutely  refuted 
in  him.     As  Dr.  Smith  said: 


"  The  very  first  thing  that  impressed  me 
about  Walter  Lowrie  was  his  high  sense  of 
honor.     In  our  early  dealings  with  him,  he  had 


^]l 


'iV5^5si^t*^Ca^^^^;W.?^--.i^;  j^^^ 


A   GENTLKMAN    OF    STRENGTH     77 

the  kka  that  ft  classmate  of  his  might  bo  called 
to  our  church,  and  he  persistently  refused  to 
consider  the  question  us  long  as  he  thought  his 
•  lassmate  had  any  cliancc.     In  all  my  dealings 
with  him— in  the  matter  of  his  vacation,  his  sal- 
ary, and  a  hundred  other  things— he  exhibited 
as  fine  a  sense  of  honor  as  any  man  I  have  ever 
known.      He    impressed    U3    all,    too,    with   his 
purity  of  heart  and  life.    One  could  sec  the  tri- 
umph of  noble  thought  revealed  in  his  very  face. 
His  geniality  and  tact,  his  keen  sense  of  humor, 
and  the  undertone  of  deep,  •  anly  seriousness 
that  lay  beneath  it,  togethei   with  the  strong, 
logical  virility  of  his  mind  equipped  him  for 
the    ministry    as    few   young   men    have    been 
equipped." 

A  little  incident  that  occurred  during  his 
work  in  New  York  illustrated  his  unscliish- 
ness: 


"  Walter  had  arranged  to  be  in  Staten  Island 
on  one  evening  to  attend  a  wedding  rehearsal  of 
a  friend,  and  had  taken  the  boat  from  White- 
hall Street,  which  leaves  about  six  o'clock.  It 
was  crowded  with  clerks  and  working  people  on 


78 


WALTER    LOWRIE 


h      ' 


^     I 


their  way  home.  The  number  on  hoard  was  esti- 
mated at  one  thousand.  The  Northficld  had 
scarcely  reached  open  water  when  she  came  in 
collision  with  another  boat  which  was  trying  to 
cross  her  bow.  Walter  was  on  the  lower  deck, 
and  as  the  shock  was  slight  there,  he  was  not 
immediately  aware  of  anytning  serious  having 
happened.  There  was  soon  a  rush  for  the  upper 
deck,  however,  and  when  he  reached  there  the 
scene  was  one  of  great  confusion  and  panic. 
Many  jumped  overboard  and  were  picked  up  by 
tugs  and  other  craft  that  soon  appeared.  Mean- 
while the  boat  was  settling  rapidly  and  swaying 
alarmingly.  Walter  made  no  effort  to  get  off 
or  to  secure  a  life  preserver,  but  was  trying  to 
quiet  and  reassure  those  near  him,  and  finally  to 
assist  a  woman  with  whom  he  was  not  ac- 
quainted, and  in  whom  he  had  no  possible  interest. 
This  while  the  water  was  several  feet  deep  on  the 
deck.  Finally,  after  seeing  her  safely  trans- 
ferred, he  was  pulled  onto  a  tug,  and  was  the 
last  one  off  the  boat." 


But  it  WHS  in  the  water  that  the  end  came. 
On  August  twenty-ninth,  1901,  he  was  in  swim- 


A   GENTLEMAN   OF    STRENGTU    79 

ming  at  Newport,  with  a  friend  whom  lie  was 
visiting,  when  he  was  seized  with  cramp,  and 
sank   before   help   could   reach   him,   becoming 
entangled  in  the  long  sea  grass  at  the  bottom, 
so  that  his   body   was  only   recovered  by  the 
efforts  of  a  government  submarine  diver.     All 
attempts    at    restoration    were    vain,    and    the 
happy,  unsullied  life  we-.l  on  to  the  higher  serv- 
ice.   A  young  men's  club  in  Newport  has  sprung 
from  his  influence  and  memory.     It  bears  his 
name,  and  its  constitution  defines  its  object  to 
be,  "To  carry  on  the  work  of  Walter  Lowrie: 

(1)  by  leading  to  Christ  young  men  who  have 
never  taken  Him  as  their  Saviour  and  King; 

(2)  by    helping    those    who    have    confessed 
Christ's   name  to   live   more   worthy   of  Him; 

(3)  by  bringing  loving  cheer  to  other  lives 
through  helpful,  Christlike  service." 


"I  feci  it  impossible,"  says  one  who  knew 
him  best,  "  for  me  to  find  words  to  describe  the 
beauty  of  his  well-rounded,  beautiful  character, 
as  it  developed  from  ihe  shy,  sensitive,  rather 
sober  little  boy.  ♦  The  joy  of  the  Lord  was  his 
strength,'  and  his  chief  power  of  attraction.    It 


80 


WALTER    LOWRIE 


was  striking  to  hear  many  who  had  lately  seen 
him,  say,  'Well,  I  saw  Walter  the  other  day, 
and  he  was  happy  as  could  be.'  Or,  '  He  was 
running  over  with  life  and  happiness.'  And 
yet  no  one  realized  more  keenly  the  burden  and 
sorrow  and  sin  of  the  world,  nor  felt  his  respon- 
sibility more  deeply.  That  joy  was  a  grace 
which  he  sought  and  received." 


I   I 


'   I 


Surely  what  Christ  made  him,  he  can  make 
others  also. 


]» 


VI 

HENRY   WARD    CAMP 
''THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER" 

WE  of  this  generation  cannot  conceive 
of  the  horrors  and  testings  of  the 
terrible    times    of    the    Civil    War. 
Those  were  days  of  character-trying  and  char- 
acter-making.    With  all  that  is  awful  and  ap- 
palling in  it,  war  docs,  nevertheless,  provide  a 
great  school  for  the  discipline  of  life,  and  the 
marring  and  making  of  manhood.     Wc  all  need 
such  a  school  and  discipline.     Professor  Janus, 
of  Harvard,  suggests  that  wc  may  find  it,  as 
war  l)ecoines   less   tolerable,   in   vohmtary   pov- 
erty and  heroic  unselfishness:  but   forty  years 
ago   there    was    no   need   of   seeking   some   dis- 
ciplinary substitute  for  war,  for  the  nation  was 
absorbed   in  the  greatest  struggle  ever  kno^,, 
in  the  world,  and  not  men  oiil>,  |,ut  boys,  wen- 
engaged  in  a  conflict  which  In  1,1  them  under  the 

HI 


I 


8S 


MENRY    WARD    CA^IV 


I  f 


Influence  of  the  prroatcst  forces  whicli  can  work 
on  character— the  forces  of  love  and  hate,  of 
sacrifice  and  selfishness,  of  courage  and  cow- 
ardice, of  life  and  death.  Thousands  of  heroes 
were  revealed  by  that  testing,  some  unknown  to 
all  save  a  few  near  them,  and  others  known  and 
reverenced  to  this  day,  to  be  known  and  rev- 
erenced forever. 

One  of  the  noblest  of  tlicse  was  Henry  Ward 
Camp.     He  was  bom  at  Hartford,  Connecticut, 
on    February    fourth,    1839,    his    father  being 
professor  in  the  xVmerican  Asylum  for  the  Deaf 
and  Dumb.     He  was  a  quiet  boy,  who  learned  to 
read  almost  unaided,  and  from  the  age  of  four 
found  his  chief  pleasure  iu  books.     Indeed,  he 
was   too  much  with  books,  and  at  the  age  of 
eight  had  to  be  sent  to  the  country  to  run  free, 
with  all  books  forbidden.     He  had  an  "  exquisite 
sensitiveness  of  conscience,"  which  led  him  to  a 
great  fear  and  shrinking  from  evil.     Wlien  he 
was  five  years  old    a  baby  sister  was  born  i.i 
I'is  home.     After  his  first  look  at  the  little  new- 
comer, he  went  out  of  the  room.     On  his  return, 
his  mother  asked  him  where  he  had  been.     "  I've 
heen,*'  he  said,  "  to  pray  to  God  that  I  may 


"THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER"     8,'i 

never  hurt  the  soul  of  dear  little  sister."     His 
sensitiveness  wns  almost  morbid  at  times. 

"  At  six  years  of  afco,"  says  Dr.  Trumbull, 
in  his  hio^rapliy  of  Camp,  The  Knlfrhtly  Sol- 
dier, which  every  boy  should  read,  "he  exer- 
cised himself  i„  writing  a  little  book  of  sirmons, 
taking  a    text,  and   making  on   it   brief  com- 
ments as  striking  and  original  as  the  employ- 
ment was  unique  for  a  boy  of  his  years.     In 
looking  over  the  manuscript,  his  good  mother 
observed    frequent    blanks    where    the   name   of 
God  should  appear.     Inquiring  the  reason  of 
these   omissions,    Henry    informed   her  that  he 
feared  he  was  not  feeling  just  right  while  he  was 
writing,  and,  lest  he  should  take  the  name  of 
God  in  vain  by  using  it  then,  he  had  left  blanks 
in  its  stead.     The  strictest  letter  of  the  Jewish 
law  could  scarcely  exact  more  reverent  use  of 
the   ineffable  name   of  Jehovah   than    was   de- 
nianded  by  the  tender  conscience  of  this  pure- 
minded  boy." 


II, 


When  he  was  ten  he  entered  the  Hartford 
Public  High  School,  where,  without  seeking  it, 
he  became  what  he  was  by  nature  and  character, 


Ih 


''-I 


t 


84 


HENRY    WARD    CAMP 


hi 


a  leader  of  his  fellows.  In  everything  he  was  a 
clean,  wholesome  pattern  for  others,  with  a  rare 
charm  of  personality,  a  general  favorite  with 
other  boys  through  his  generosity  and  manli- 
ness, and  at  the  head  of  his  classes.  "  He  de- 
spised everything  mean,"  says  one  of  his  teach- 
ers, "  but  it  was  chiefly  his  uncommon  nobleness 
of  character  which  made  him  conspicuous  then 
as  in  later  years." 

In  the  summer  of  1855  he  passed  the  exam- 
inations for  admission  to  Yale,  but,  as  he  was 
only  sixteen,  he  waited,  nnd  entered  in  the  fall 
of  1856.  During  his  vacation  the  following 
spring  he  joined  his  home  church  in  Hartford, 
of  which  Dr.  Horace  Bushnell  was  pastor.  Dr. 
BushncU  wrote  of  him : 


"It  was  my  privilege  to  know  this  young 
patriot  and  soldier  from  his  childhood  up.  The 
freshly-vigorous,  wonderfully-lustrous,  un- 
soilcd  look  he  bore  in  his  childhood  made  it  con- 
sciously a  kind  of  pleasure  to  pass  him,  or  catch 
the  sight  of  his  face  in  the  street.  I  do  not  re- 
call ever  having  had  such  an  impression,  or  one 
so  captivating  for  ils  moral  beauty,  from  any 


"THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER"     85 

other  child.     And  it  was  just  as  jrrcat  a  satis- 
faction   to    see   him   grow    as    it    was   to   see 

"'"' He  was  such  a  man  as,  going 

into  a  crowd  of  strangers,  would  not  only  at- 
tract general  attention  by  his  person,  by  his 
noble    figure    and    the    fine    classic    cut    of   his 
features,  by  the  cool,  clear  beaming  of  his  in- 
telligence, by  the  visible  repose  of  his  justice,  by 
a  certain  almost  superlative  sweetness  of  mod- 
esty ;  but  there  was  above  all  an  impression  of 
intense  purity  in  his  looks  that  is  almost  never 
seen   among  men,   and  which  everybody   must 
and    would    distinctly    feel.     ...     I    never 
saw  him  when  I  did  not  think  he  was  a  Christian, 
and  I  do  not  believe  that  he  ever  saw  himself 
early  enough  to  properly  think  otherwise.     Still, 
he   did    think    otherwise    nmch    longer    than    I 
wished.      The  difficulty  was   to  get   him   away 
from  the  tyranny  of  his  conscience.     It  was  so 
delicate  and  steadfast  and  strong  that  his  faith 
could  not  get  foothold  to  stand.     I  feared  many 
times  that  he  was  going  to  be  preyed  upon  all 
his  life  long  by  a  morbid  conscience.    Still,  there 
was  a  manly  force  visible,  even  in  his  childhood; 
and  I  contrived,  in  what  ways  I  could,  to  get 


i 


1 
III 


86 


HENRY    WARD    CAMP 


'  I 


tlint  kindled  by  a  free  inspiration.  To  get  him 
under  impulse,  afterwards,  for  the  war  was  not 
half  as  difficult— all  the  less  difficult  that  the 
point  of  my  endeavor  was  already  carried ;  for, 
having  now  become  a  soldier  of  Christ,  by  a 
clear  and  conscious  devotion,  he  had  only  to  ex- 
tend that  soldiership  for  the  kingdom  of 
Iieavcn's  sake." 

In  Yale  Henry  Camp  was  the  true  man  he 
liad  always  been,  and  the  same  happy,  full- 
orbed  man.  He  was  a  joyous  athlete,  and  rowed 
in  the  Yale  boat  in  the  great  Quinsigamond  Re- 
gatta in  1859.  The  first  day  Harvard  won,  but 
Camp  insisted  on  Yale's  entrance  in  the  next 
day's  races,  when,  thanks  as  much  to  him  as  to 
anyone,  the  tables  were  turned.  The  Rev. 
Joseph  Twitchell,  of  Hartford,  rowed  next  to 
Camp  in  the  Yale  boat. 

"  In  looking  back  to  Henry  Camp,"  he  wrote, 
"  as  I  knew  him  in  college,  it  is  impossible  not 
to  recall  his  sin^^ilar  physical  beauty.  . 
His  handsome  fnvv,  his  manly  bearing,  and  his 
glorious  strength  made  that  rare  gentleness  and 
goodness  wliich  won  our  love  the  more  illustri- 


"THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER"     87 

ous.  I  well  remember,  while  nt  college,  riding 
out  one  day  with  a  classmate  of  his,  and  passing 
him  as,  erect  and  light  of  foot,  he  strode  lustily 
lip  a  long  hill,  and  the  enthusiasm  with  which 
my  comrade  pronounced  this  eulogy,  'There's 
Henry  Camp,  a  perfect  man,  who  never  did  any- 
thing to  hurt  his  botly  or  his  soul! '  " 

He  was  graduated  from  college  in  1860  with 
high  honor;  but,  what  is  more,  with  the  deep 
love  of  men  who  had  seen  no  flaw  in  him,  and 
some  of  whom  he  had  won  to  the  Saviour. 


!? 


tl\^ 


"  On  entering  college,"  wrote  one  of  his  class- 
mates, "  I  was  wholly  without  hope  and  without 
God  in  the  world.     I  was  beyond  the  reach  of 
any  power  except  the  power  of  Jesus.     I  do  not 
know  whether  I  believed  the  Bible  or  not.    . 
I  saw  in  Camp  a  character  and  a  life  I  had  never 
seen  before.     By  his  life  I  was  forced  to  admit 
that  his  profession  was  per  sc  no  libel  on  the 
Master  in  whose  ser\ice  he  was.     I  do  not  recol- 
lect what  part  of  our  college  life  it  was  when 
he  first  spoke  to  me  on  the  subject  of  my  soul's 
salvation.    It  was  not,  however,  till  after  his  up- 


HI' 


iU 


'Hi 


I'i 


88  IIENKY    WARD    CAMP 

right  and  godly  life  hud  forced  from  me  the 
most  profound  respect  for  him  and  the  Saviour 
to  whom  ho  prayed.     He  said  very  little ;  but  he 
said  enough  to  lead  me  to  think  over  my  past 
life,  and  tc,  cast  a  glance  at  the  future.     I  shall 
never  forget  the  impression  that  first  conversa- 
tion hud  upon  my  mind.     It  was  not  so  much 
what  he  said  as  the  way  he  said  it.     JIc  believed 
he  was  setting  forth  God's  truth,  and  spoke  as 
if  he  knew  it  was  so.     I  believed  that  he  knew  it 
was  true,  though  un  ible  to  explain  how  he  be- 
came conscious   of  it.      This   I  pondered,  and 
felt  that  he  had  evidences  that  had  been  with- 
held from  me.     He  spoke  with  me  only  a  few 
times  on  this  wise,  but  every  time  with  telling 
effect.     I  could  not  help  thinking  of  it;  and 
after  we  were  parted,  and  I  had  lost  his  com- 
panionship, I  made  his  thoughts  the  compan- 
ions of  my  lonely  hours.     I  began  to  love  him 
more  than  ever,  and  with  love  for  him  grew  the 
love    of   the   same    Lord    whom    he    loved    and 
served.     ...     I  cannot  but  feel  that  he  was 
the  instrument  chosen  of  God  to  unveil  the  dark- 
ness that  shut  out  the  light  from  my  soul.     I 
fear  that,  had  I  never  known  him,  I  had  never 


"THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER"     89 

known  the  love  of  God,  nor  welcomed  the  glad 
enjoyment  of  a  Christian  experience." 

Men  believed  what  Camp  said  because  they 
believed  in  him. 

"  Prominent  among  his  traits,"  wrote  another 
classmate,  «  was  his  absolute,  unqualified,  and 
unmistakable  hatred  of  everything  mean.     He 
could  be  silent  under  an  act  of  injustice,  of  in- 
jury, even  of  insult,  when  he  believed  it  to  be 
the  result  of  thoughtlessness  or  ignorance ;  but 
his  detestation  of  meanness  begotten  of  delib- 
erate malice  or  of  littleness  of  soul  was  inex- 
pressibly withering.       '  I  never  saw  him  angry 
on  any  other  account,'  writes  a  classmate  who 
knew  him  well,  '  but  a  mean  act  would  make  his 
eyes  flash  fire ;  and  his  words  on  such  occasions, 
though  few,  were  emphatic'     He  seemed  almost 
to   have    belonged    to   an    order    of    Christian 
knighthood    whose    mission    might    be    to    ex- 
terminate  dastardly    and    i)remcditatcd    wick- 
edness." 

After    leaving    Yale    College     Camp    took 
charge  for  six  months  of  the  West  Hartford 


f 


m 


■^f^^^y-'^%:JK-^ 


Mmi 


m 


MICROCOPY   RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  ond  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


|50      ™^ 

i^ 

1^      1^ 

H^ 

£:i^ 

P° 

1.8 


1.25  i  1.4 


1.6 


^  APPLIED  IM/1GE     Inc 

S5-^  '653   tost    Ma  "    Street 

^'S  Rochester.    Ne*    York         U609        uSA 

^^  (^16)    482  -  05QQ  -  Phone 

^S  (716)    288  -  5989  -  Fax 


90 


HENRY    WARD    CAMP 


• 


n 


,     !' 


High  School.  In  the  fall  of  I860  ho  cast  his 
vote  for  Abraham  Lincoln.  "He  had  never 
lifted  a  hand  in  anger,  or  even  struck  a  blow  in 
self-defense,"  but  he  believed  in  a  united  nation, 
and  he  was  ready  to  do  his  part  to  defend  it. 

When  the  war  began   he  was  studying  law  in 
East  Hartford,  and,  reluctantly,  he  continued 
his  law  studies  for  the  first  seven  months  of  the 
war;   but,  in  November,  a  commission   in  the 
Tenth  Regiment  of  Connecticut  Volunteers  was 
offered  to  him,  and  he  obtained  his  parents'  con- 
sent, and,  as  he  believed,  God's,  and  joyfully 
accepted  the  position  to  which  he  was  called. 
When  he  was  called  upon  in  his  old  Sunday 
school,  where  he  was  teaching,  for  a  farewell 
word,  he  said,  simply : 

"  Although  I  love  my  home,  and  love  this  old 
school,  I  cannot  say  that  I  am  sorry  I  am  going 
away.  I  cannot  even  say  that  1  leave  you  all 
because  I  deem  it  my  duty  to  go.  I  rejoice, 
rather,  that,  at  length,  I  am  to  have  the  part  I 
have  longed  for,  but  which  has  been  denied  me 
until  now,  in  defending  my  Government  and  in 
serving  my  country.     I  go  because  I  want  to 


"THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDH^l "     91 


go ;  and  I  give  God  thanks  for  the  privilege  of 
going." 

Thus  ho  went  off  to  the  war. 

In  the  army  he  was  clean  and  he  was  strong. 
A  brother  officer  tells  "  of  sitting  by  a  table  with 
him,  in  a  saloon  of  the  New  Brunszcick,  one 
evening,  playing  chess,  when  an  officer  near 
them  indulged  in  impure  language.  Camp," 
he  says,  "  fairly  blushed  like  a  maiden ;  and  then, 
as  the  same  style  of  remark  was  repeated,  he  rose 
from  his  seat,  saying,  '  Let  us  find  another 
place ;  the  air  is  very  foul  here.' "  When  the 
City  of  New  York  was  wrecked  off  Hattcras 
Inlet,  Camp  was  one  of  the  boat's  crew  which 
went  off  to  attempt  rescue.  The  old  skipper  re- 
fused to  take  him  in  the  boat  at  first,  ;is  too  fair 
and  youthful;  but  when  they  returned  after  a 
fruitless  struggle,  the  old  man  said,  "  Lieu- 
tenant Camp  was  game,  and  the  pluckiest  fel- 
low I  ever  saw ;  if  I  had  had  a  boat's  crew  like 
him,  I  could  ha\o  gone  through  to  the  wreck." 

His  first  taste  of  conflict  was  at  Roanoke 
Island.  There  he  was  in  the  battle  of  New 
Berne,  and  after  many  experiences  in  the  fight- 
ing   on    James    and    Morris    Islands,    before 


ii 

if' 


:S    '. 


\ 


i 


,  ! 


9P  HENRY    WARD    CAMP 

Charleston,  he  and  his  friend,  Chaplain  Trum- 
bull, were  captured  and  confined  as  prisoners 

m  Charleston  and  afterwards  in  the  Columbia 

jail. 

WitK   Capcain   Chamberlain,   Camp  escaped 
from  pnson  by  digg-ng  a  hole  in  the  wall,  but 
was  recaptured  and  shut  up  in  the  jail  at  Ches- 
terville,   and  then  returned   to   Columbia,   and 
thence  shortly  transferred  to  Libby  Prison,  in 
Richmond.    When  he  was  paroled,  he  went  home 
until  exchanged.     In  five  days  he  heard  that 
he  had  boon  exchanged,  and  at  once  he  started 
back  to  the  front.     He  was  at  the  battles  of 
Drewry's  BlufF,  and  in  the  constant  fighting  of 
the  Army  of  the  James  during  the  summer  of 
1864,  and  received  from  General  Buckingham, 
before  Petersburg,  his  well-deserved  commission 
as  Major  of  the  regiment. 

In  October  his  regiment  was  fighting  before 
Richmond.  On  the  thirteenth  there  was  an  at- 
tack on  the  plains  between  the  Darbytown  road 
and  the  Charles  City  road.  Camp's  regiment 
led  the  assaulting  column,  and  Camp  himself, 
at  his  request,  had  the  front  line,  and  there,  as 
he  was  leading  his  men,  waving  his  sword,  and 


'«'  ! 


"THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER 


93 


calling  out  cheerily,  "  Come  on,  boys,  con.e  on !  " 
he  rdl.  His  friend,  the  chaplain,  recovered  his 
body,  and  it  was  buried  in  the  Cedar  Hill  Ceiae- 
tery  at  Hartford  with  the  inscription: 


Henry  Ward  Camp. 


iiajor  of  Ihe  Tenth  Connecticut  Volunteers. 

Born  at  IJar'ford,  Conn., 

Feb.  4,  1839. 

Killed  m  Battle,  before  Richmond,  Va., 

Oct.  13,  1864. 

"A    true   knight: 

Not  yet   mature,  yet   matchless." 

Erected  by  his  fellow-citizens  of  Hartford 

as  a  tribute  to  his  patriotic  services 

and  to  his  noble  Christian 

character. 

"  All  of  us  who  were  about  him,"  said  ca  col- 
lego  friend,  "  perceived  that  Henry  Camp  was  a 
Christian  who  followed  Christ.  All  things  that 
were  true,  honest,  just,  pure,  lovely,  of  good 
report,  shone  in  his  walk  and  conversation 
among  us."  "  My  impression  of  him,"  said  Dr. 
Lushnell,  at  the  celebration  at  Yale,  in  1865, 
commemorative  of  the  men  who  had  died  "  for 
God,  for  country,  and  for  Yale,"  in  the  great 


■  ri 

Hi 


M 


|i 


■V 


:<4i: 


94  HENRY    WARD    CAMP 

"  IS  that  I  have  never  known  so  much  of 


war. 


^orth,  and  beauty,  and  truth,  and  massive 
majesty-so  much,  in  a  word,  of  all  kinds  of 
pro,nise-en.bodied  in  any  young  person." 

This  is  the  type  of  man  Christ  creates.     It 
cannot  be  created  otherwise. 


2^:^^^^.:^,^. 


VII 

HARRY    ^UcINNES 
"JOYFULLY   READY" 

ONE  of  tlie  most  lionored  names  in  the  his- 
tory of  England  during  the  ninctecntli 
century  was  Sir  TJiomas  Fowcll  Bux- 
ton's. He  was  one  of  the  great  English  philan- 
thropists, and  was  parliamentary  leader  of  the 
anti-slavery  party  after  18.^4.  No  good  work 
lacked  his  sympathy  and  support.  He  was  one 
of  the  best  friends  of  the  work  of  missions,  and 
he  was  a  man  of  character  and  power,  whose 
monument  stands  in  the  aisle  of  the  north  tran- 
sept of  Westminster  Abbey  near  that  of  Wilber- 
force.  There  is  a  suitable  inscription  on  the 
stone,  but  it  is  not  as  strong  as  Buxton's  own 
vigorous  words: 

"  The  longer  I  live  the  more  certain  I  am  that 
the  great  difference  between  men,  the  feeble  and 
the  powerful,  the  great  and  the  insignificant,  is 
energy  and  invincible  determination— a  purpose 

95 


iiil 


f 


I 

i 

i 


96 


HARRY   MacINNES 


N 


'1 


'     \ 


once  fixed,  and  then  death  or  victory.  That 
quality  will  do  anything  that  can  be  done  in  this 
world;  and  no  titles,  no  circumstances,  no  op- 
portunities, will  make  a  two-legged  creature  a 
man  without  it." 

Harry  Maclnnes  was  Fowell  Buxton's  grand- 
son. His  mother,  who  was  Buxton's  daughter, 
was  married  on  the  day  of  the  emancipation  of 
slaves  in  the  British  colonies,  August  first,  1834, 
and  Harry  was  born  June  sixteenth,  1863,  in 
London,  where  the  earlier  part  of  his  life  was 
spent. 

"  Before  he  could  speak,  he  was  described  as 
*  breaking  into  loving,  beaming  smiles  whenever 
anyone  speaks  to  him.'    To  this  sociability  was 
added  a  practical  matter-of-fact  energy,  which 
showed  itself  in  many  of  his  childish  schemes. 
When  barely  five  years  old  he  was  found  on 
hot  summer  evening  dealing  out  water  thrc,     i 
the  railing  of  the  square  garden  in  which  ne 
was  playing  to  any  of  the  passers-by  who  would 
accept  it,  and  especially  to  his  friends  the  cab- 
bies, and  another  day,  hearing  a  cab  was  wanted, 
he  ran  off  before  he  could  be  missed,  to  a  stand 


JlL^5Kft5* 


iSMaBIHHBMrim 


"JOYFULLY    HEADY 


97 


at  a  little  distance,  where  he  found  his  *  wheel 
/our,*  and  soon  returned,  seated  within,  his 
merry  face  just  showing  above  the  edge  of  the 
window.  He  was  always  n  '  jolly  '  boy,  and  the 
friends  of  later  days  would  have  recognized  in 
the  sturdy  little  fellow  the  same  independence  of 
character  they  knew  so  well." 

The  lad's  determined  character  developed 
fast,  and  his  self-will  often  required  correction. 
It  was  not  only  strong,  but  pertinacious — any 
object  upon  which  his  heart  was  set,  that  object 
he  pursued  with  his  whole  mind,  till  he  gained  it, 
or  was  obliged,  by  the  exertion  of  a  stronger  will 
than  his  own,  to  give  it  up. 

His  school  life  began  at  Hampstead,  and  was 
continued  at  Rottingdean,  near  Brighton,  where 
he  went  in  1874,  and  in  1876  he  was  sent  to 
Stubbington,  in  Hampshire,  to  read  for  his  ex- 
aminations for  a  cadctship  in  the  royal  navy, 
the  boy  having  set  his  heart  on  being  a  sailor. 
When  he  passed  his  examinations,  the  Bishop  of 
Dover  wrote  to  him: 

"  I  have  no  fear  but  that  you  will  sen-e  your 
country  bravely  and  honestly,  if  need  be.     But 


ft 

i 

ii 


III 


ifl 


98 


IIAKUY    MacINNES 


in  peace  or  war,  I  hope  you  will  never  be 
ushnnicd  to  be  found  fighting  on  the  side  of 
Christ,  and  under  His  flag.  Depend  upon  it,  it 
is  the  winning  side.  But  no  battles  con  be  won 
without  some  hard  knocks." 


! 


i*  I 


1,       I 


In  Septduber,  1876,  Harry  joined  H.  M.  S. 
Britannia,  tlie  training  ship  at  Dartmouth. 
Here  he  stayed  two  years,  and  lived  his  clean, 
fearless  life.  He  had  his  Daily  Text-book,  and 
was  not  afraid  to  read  it  daily;  but,  boylike, 
he  had  not  come  to  the  deeper  knowledge.  Dur- 
ing his  stay  on  the  training  ship  his  brother 
Campbell  died,  and  that  took  him  a  little  farther 
into  the  real  soberness  of  life. 

When  his  training  course  ended  in  1878  he 
was  sent  to  sea  on  the  Euri/alus.  At  Malta  he 
was  transferred  to  the  Wye,  and  at  Crete  to  the 
Invincible.  He  was  a  jolly,  happy  fellow,  the 
friend  of  everyone,  and  he  found  his  total  absti- 
nence habit  a  little  difficult.  «  I  have  now  and 
then  dined  in  the  wardroom,"  he  wrote  from 
Artika  Bay.  »  The  officers  often  ask  us.  It  is 
awfully  hard  to  keep  from  taking  wine,  etc.,  as, 
whenever  you  go,  you  are  always  asked  to  take 


"JOYFULLY    READY"  99 

•something,  and  they  are  always  surprised  if  you 
refuse."  A  me.sinate  wrote  afterwards  about 
one  of  the  boy's  acts  of  fidelity  to  principle  in 
this  regard: 

"  I  know  you  will  like  to  hoar  something  he 
would  not  have  told  you  himself,  n,  it  illustrates 
liis  firmness  and  constancy  so  well    that  it  made 
a  great  impression  upon  me  at  the  time,  and  I 
have  never  forgotten  it.     One  evening  on  board 
the  Invincible  it  happened  to  be  someone's  birth- 
day, and  as  is  sometimes  done  in  the  service, 
champagne  was  handed  round  for  everyone  to 
drink  his   health.     Poor   Harry   was  evidently 
very  distressed  at  not  being  able  to  do  this,  as  he 
thought  it  might  appear  rude;  and  when  the 
mid,  whose  birthday  it  was,  said  that  he  hoped 
he  would  drink  his  health,  he  told  him  that  he 
could    not    do    so    in    wine.     The    mid    rather 
pressed  him  to  take  some,  but  Harry  told  him 
quietly   that  he  had  promised  his  father  and 
mother  that  he  would  not  touch  any  wine,  and 
therefore  that  it  was  out  of  his  power  to  do  so, 
but  that  he  wished  him  every  happiness  notwith- 
standing.    Harry  did  this  in  such  a  firm,  pleas- 


ii 


J 


{   ! 


100 


HARHV  Ma(INNKS 


s~- 


i  I  ' 


I     ; 


ant    mnnncr,    that    cvcrvtliiti^    was    made    all 
right." 

As  they  cruised  round  the  eastern  Mediter- 
ranean, lie  was  constantly  hunting,  ri(h"ng,  /md 
exph)ring  the  country.     "We  rode  right  over 
part  of  the  great  IMauis  of  Troy,"  he  wrote  from 
IJesika  Bay.     From  ^lalta,  he  wrote,  on  March 
twenty-ninth,   "  I   ain    now   signal    midshipman 
with  Browning;  he  and  I  keep  watch  alternately. 
We  do  not  have  any  night  work  to  do;  wc  have 
to  look  after  all  the  signals  going  on.    I  want  to 
ask  you  if  you  would  nn"nd  my  going  to  the 
opera   here?      Lots   of   tlic   fellows   have   gone 
there  to-night.    Do  tell  me  just  what  you  would 
like  about  it,  and  if  you  would  not  like  me  to  go 
I  should  be  quite  contented,  as  I  do  not  want  to 
do  anything  you  would  not  like."    As  a  matter 
of  fact,  he  was  left  to  decide  for  himself,  and  he 
did  not  go. 

After  a  visit  home  in  1879  he  sailed  again  on 
the  Invincible,  and  visited  Egypt  and  then 
Greece;  but  his  health  not  being  satisfactory, 
he  decided  to  resign  his  commission.  This  he 
did  with  a  clean  record  behind  him.     When  he 


:ik' 


i 


"JOYFULLY    HKADY" 


101 


left  tho  service  his  caphiin  wrote:  "Ho  U 
tliorouKliIy  steady  and  liiKli-{)riricii)lcd,  and  I 
am  glad  to  have  had  hini  with  me." 

In  the  siHiimer  of  IHHil  he  wuU  to  the  Kes- 
wick Convention,  oorresjtoridinpf  to  the  Nortli- 
field  Conftience  in  our  country.  When  it  was 
over   he  wrote  to  his  mother: 


I      i  : 


ll 


i 


"  I  seem  in  a  way  to  be  rather  b-^wildered  now 
about  the  subjects  of  the  different  speakers;  but 
the  whole  thing  I  found  most  helpful;  I  see 
much  more  distinctly  now  what  a  real  Chris- 
tian's life  ought  to  be;  and  I  do  trust  and  pray 
that  I  may  have  strength  to  act  as  Ciofl  would 
have  me.  On  Sunday  evening  we  attended  the 
Holy  Communion,  which  was,  at  a  tinio  like  this, 
specially  strengthening.  I  am  longing  to  sec 
you,  to  talk  it  over.  I  do  want  to  be  of  some 
use  in  my  life  for  the  Lord." 

He  entered  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  in 
October,  1882.  Mr.  bloody  visited  Cambridge 
that  fall,  and  he  wrote : 

"  It  is  so  pleasant  to  hear  his  plain-spoken 
language  again.     On  Tuesday  he  dwelt  a  good 


.1     *ill 


f: 


I      ! 


102 


HARRY  MacINNES 


deal  on  conversions,  and  said  in  one  part  of  his 
address  that  he  firmly  believed  in  an  instanta- 
neous change  of  life.     He  gave  a  good  illustra- 
tion of  this,  saying,  supposing  he  were  to  speak 
to  a  man  who  was  anvlous  about  his  soul,  and  if 
this  man's  special  sin  was  that  he  swore  a  hun- 
dred times  a  day,  would  it  be  right  of  him  to 
say :    '  To-morrow  you  must  swear  only  eighty 
times,  the  day  after  t'  it  only  sixty  times,'  and 
so  on?    No,  of  course  there  must  be  a  complete 
change  at  once.     There  ni-ist  be  a  time  when  a 
man  passes  from  deu'   unto  life." 

He  entered  upon  Christian  work  heartily  as  a 
result  of  3Ir.  Moody's  meeting.  He  visited  the 
brick  fields  round  Cambridge,  and  went  fear- 
lessly about  the  rooms  of  undergraduates,  call- 
ing upon  men  in  behalf  of  the  claims  of  Christ. 
And  he  was  eager  to  be  of  help  to  his  own 
brothers : 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  hear,"  he  wrote  to  them, 
"  that  you  have  got  a  fellow  to  join  the  Bible 
Union.  Curiously  enough,  I  have  felt  the  desire 
to  write  and  ask  you  to  get  up  a  little  Biblc- 
roading  for  those  who  belong,  or  who  care  to 


■Ml 


^mp:m:m;^:.iAr^^^^t::Mmmim. 


'4 


.1 


"JOYFULLY    READY" 


103 


read.  Ask  anybody  who  would  be  at  all  inclined 
to  come ;  you  will  know  the  most  convenient  time ; 
don't  have  it  when  you  are  sleepy.  I  know  you 
will  like  mc  to  suggest  one  or  two  tilings. 
Always  begin  with  asking  God's  blessing  on  the 
word  read;  and  do  read  expecting  to  find  some 
treasure,  something  to  carry  away  with  you ;  it 
is  always  there  if  you  seek.  I  firmly  believe  the 
greatest  thing  toward  walking  faithfully  is  read- 
ing the  Bible.  Also  make  it  always  cheerful  so 
that  all  may  keep  up  the  interest.  Do  let  us 
ask  that  the  '  fear  of  man  '  may  be  taken  away 
from  us.  I  am  sure  this  is  what  is  keeping  us 
back  so  from  coming  out.  In  asking  anyone  to 
join,  you  might  tell  of  our  meetings  here,  and 
how  they  help  us." 

The  next  summer  he  went  to  Keswick  again, 
when,  as  he  said,  "there  seemed  to  be  a  halo 
about  the  place.  I  hardly  like  to  say  much,  as 
we  must  '  be  doers,  not  hearers  only,'  but  I  am 
sure  God  is  going  to  keep  me."  Li  August  he 
joined  some  friends  for  seashore  ser\-ices  for 
children  and  young  people  at  seaside  resorts, 
where  in  his  happy  way  he  won  many  boys  to 


Mi ' 

I 


ll 


M 


104 


HARRY  MacINNES 


1 « 


Christ.  In  October  he  returned  to  college  at 
Cambridge.  Of  his  ways  there  one  of  his 
friends  wrote: 

"  I  had  the  great  privilege  of  being  up  at 
Cambridge  with  him  for  one  term,  and  I  shall 
never  forget  what  a  rejoicing  Christian  he  was. 
I  never  heard  him  say  a  hard  or  unkind  word  of 
anybody;  and  in  everything  he  did  he  was 
always  so  thorough  and  whole-hearted  that  it 
was  a  great  pleasure  to  be  with  him." 

At  Cambridge  he  again  took  up  Christian  work 
earnestly.  A  friend  recalls  his  going  in  one 
night  to  a  room  where  a  party  of  men  were 
drinking,  to  invite  to  some  meetings  the  man 
who  occupied  the  room.  Instead  of  alienating 
them,  he  won  their  respect,  and  on  the  last  night 
of  the  meetings  that  whole  drinking  party  came. 
After  his  death  a  young  man  of  a  fast  set  at 
college  wrote  of  him : 

"  I  do  hope  you  will  bring  out  in  his  character 
the  combination  of  thorough  geniality  with 
true  religion.  I  don't  know  why  it  was,  but 
'vhile  I  was  at  Cambridge  it  was  always  felt 


.1: 


^ik' 


;  .^tr^^afci^ilfe^laiSk  »Sii- 


"JOYFULLY    READY"  105 

that  such  n  combination   did  not  exist,  but  I 
never  saw  a  better  example  than  Harry.     .     . 
My  position  at  Cambridge  made  his  care  for  mc 
more  than  ordinarily  brave.     I  Imd  many  ac- 
quaintances in  a  really  fust  set,  and  certainly 
did  not  myself  keep  quite  out  of  it.     Harry 
knew  this  well,  and,  instead  of  any  shyness,  any 
shrinking   from   fear  of   what   might   be   said, 
redoubled  his  tare  for  mc.     He  often  came  into 
my  room,  begging  mc  to  come  to  some  meeting ; 
often  he  found  there  men  who,  I  am  sure,  he 
knew  would  have  b^rst  out  laughing  at  him,  as 
soon  as  his  back  was  turned,  had  they  not  known 
he  was  my  friend.     On  one  occasion  specially, 
I  had  a  large  breakfast  party ;  there  was  to  be 
a  meeting  that  day,  held  by  a  man  who  had 
formerly  led  a  very  bad  life,  had  been  converted, 
and  now  works  much  to  do  good  amongst  under- 
graduates.    Harry  came  into  my  room,  and  had 
the  pluck  to  speak  of  such  things  before  a  com- 
pany which  he  mu  ,t  have  known  rather  mocked 
at  religion.     He  was  successful,  and  three  of 
us  went  to  the  meeting,  and  I  for  one  felt  better 
for  it  (as  I  always  did  after  a  visit  from  him). 
This  is  only  one  instance  among  many.     I  don't 


■'j'l 


n\\ 


!  < 


106 


HARRY  MacINNES 


(.; 


tliiiik  anvoiip  wlio  does  not  know  university  life 
<-ai.  (ippieci,-  ■  propnly  the  pluck  rcquimi  for 
such  a  h"fc  as  Harry's." 

When  vacation  came  in  1884  he  went  to  Ger- 
many, an.I  then  to  Switzerland,  where  he  and  his 
brothers  were  clinihln^ir  the  mountains  for  fun, 
and  connnen{iin<r  C'lirist  for  love.     Sir  Frederick 
3Iontaoue-Pollock     remembered    a    "talk    with 
him  about   matters  of  reli<rion— about   the  dis- 
puted  questions   of   the   present    day,    and    the 
various  form  of  unbelief.      The  great  thing,  he 
said,  in  any  diffieulty,  was   to  put  one's  whole 
trust  in  God.     He  also  happened  to  remark— a 
thing  whieh  struck  me  very  forcibly  afterwards, 
though  not  so  much  at  the  timc^that  the  death 
of  a  Christian  was  always  happy."     On  one  of 
his  walks    he  lost   his  pocketbook,  with   all  his 
memoranda,  but  he  bore  it  unrufHet?,  made  sport 
for  everyone  just  the  same,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing ut  three  he  and  his  brother,  Neil,  started  back 
to  find  his  book    if    they    could.     As    soon    as 
possible  they  reached  the  })oint  which    led    to 
the    path    through    the    fir    woods    which    they 
iiad  followed  the  evening  before.     Harry  said, 


.^ 


m^m 


«  JOYFULLY    READY 


107 


"  Wc  will  now  jisk  again  tiiuL  we  may  find  ih" 
Three    minutes     after,    as     tluj     wall.id     on, 
there  hiy  the  pookct'mok  in  the  middle  of  the 
well-beaten   path,   with    the   dvw   still   upon    it. 
On     September     twenty-second,     lie     and     his 
brother    Neil    climbed    over    one    of   the    spurs 
of  the  Diablerets   -ange.      Away  up  above  the 
tree  line   they  sat  down  for  luncheon.    "  Th<n," 
said  his   brother,  "he  jumped   up   and   w;   ked 
round  to  where  he  could  see  the  valley  (we  were 
sitting  with  our  backs  to  it).     He  said  he  had 
been  thinking  a  good  deal  lately  of  that  verse, 
'  Tl.:;  works  of  the  Lord  are  great.'     I  finished 
it,  '  sought  out  of  all  them  that  have  pleasure 
therein.'     After  putting  a  French  picture-text 
into  our  empty  coffee  bottle,  and  writing  our 
names  on  it, he  sat  down  and  read  Psalm  Twenty- 
four.      I  remember  distinctly  his   reading   that 
verse,  '  He  that  hath  clean  hands  and  a  pure 
heart.'  "     As  they  started  on,  he  told  Xeil  that 
his  motto  for  the  day  was,  "  I  will  be  glad  in  the 
Lord,"  "  laying  such  emphasis  on  the  word  '  will,' 
as  if  to  say  it  is  in  our  power  to  take  what  we 
may  claim  as  our  right."     Then  they  climbed  on 
up  till  they  came  to  a  place  where  the  rocks  rose 


)• 


I  I 


1] 


108 


HARRY  MacINNES 


precipitously.     The  father  wrote  afterwards  of 
what  followed: 


*'  Each  step  they  hoped  would  be  easier,  but 
it  grew  worse.     Neil  dared  not  look  down  or 
back ;  Harry  called,  '  Don't  go  where  you  can't 
get  back!'     Neil  reached  the  top,  and  threw 
himself  down ;  heard  as  if  two  great  stones  had 
fallen.     Harry  never  appeared;   Neil  shouted, 
but  no  answer  came.     He  got  down  somehow 
(scrambling  down  another  way  in  about  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour)  to  where  he  believed  he 
should    see    him.     He    prayed    for    help,    and 
strength  was  given  for  the  tremendous  effort. 
There  lay  our  most  precious  one,  in  the  bed  of  a 
little  torrent  on  the  steep  mountain  side.     Neil 
felt  his  heart,  his  pulse,  but  death  must  have 
been     instantaneous.     He    laid    him     straight, 
folded  the  hands,  and  sat  watching  the  calm 
face.     A  chamois-hunter  had  been  watching  the 
two  (from  the  other  side  of  the  valley).     He 
saw  the  fall  with  his  -lass.     He  and  two  wood- 
cutters soon  came.     '  Mon  frire—avec  Dieu!  ' 
soon    told    them    all,    though    they    needed    no 
telling." 


■ik. 


"JOYFULLY    READY" 


109 


His  father  visited  the  place  several  days  later, 
and  said  that  the  boys  had  tried  nothing  rash, 
but  the  lad's  fair  life  was  done. 

Of  what  the  life  had  been,  Dr.  Moule,  now 
Bishop  of  Durham,  wrote  to  his  father :  *'  Your 
dear  son  will  ever  dwell  among  my  brightest  and 
purest  memories  of  young  Cambridge  Chris- 
tians.    Truly  he  lived  and  shone." 

Some  young  men  say,  "  When  we  are  of  age, 
we  will  begin  to  live.  These  earlier  years  are 
the  time  of  play  alone."  But  Harry  Maclnnes 
was  gone  at  twenty-one,  and  the  simple  little 
biography  which  has  been  published  is  rightly 
named,  Joyfully  Ready.  No,  the  only  time 
we  have  to  live  is  now.  Young  men  should  live 
their  lives  for  Christ,  remembering  that  the  life 
they  have  is  the  only  life  they  ever  will  have, 
and  that  what  they  would  do  ever  they  must  do 
now. 


■  ■ 


m 


I 


'J  I 


VIII 


I 


MARSHALL    NEWELL 
A    NATURAL    CHRISTIAN 

MARSHALL  NEWELL  was  born  in 
Clifton,  New  Jersey,  April  second, 
1871.  His  father  was  a  farmer,  and 
a  college  man,  who  had  been  graduated  from 
Harvard  in  the  class  of  1857.  Most  of  his 
early  life  young  Newell  spent  on  his  father's 
farm  at  Great  Barrington,  Massachusetts, 
among  the  Berkshire  hills. 

In  the  fall  of  1887  ho  went  to  Phillips 
Academy,  at  Exeter,  New  Hampshire,  and 
spent  three  years  in  the  academy.  It  was  there 
that  he  became  interested  in  athletics,  playing 
football  at  first  on  his  class  team,  and  later  on 
the  school  eleven.  He  was  not  neglecting  his 
other  work,  however,  and  in  1890  ho  was  grad- 
uated with  honor,  and  in  the  fall  entered  Har- 
vard.   There  he  soon  became  the  foremost  man 

110 


Hi 


A    NATURAL    CHRISTIAN         iil 

in  the  athletic  life  of  the  university.  He  was 
on  the  victorious  football  eleven  of  1890,  and 
on  the  winning  crew  of  the  following  spring, 
both  in  his  freshman  jcar.  He  jjlayod  on  his 
freshman  eleven  also,  and  on  the  university 
eleven  for  all  the  three  following  years  of  his 
course,  and  he  rowed  on  the  University  crews  in 
189a  and  1893. 

"  While  so  prominent  a  figure  in  athletic,"  the 
Class  memorial  declared  of  him  after  his  death, 
"  he  by  no  means  neglected  the  academic  side  of 
college  life.  He  was  interested  in  his  courses  and 
always  stood  well  in  them.  He  had  the  respect 
and  friendship  of  instructors  as  well  as 
students.  Socially,  he  was  popular  as  £cw  have 
been.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Institute  of 
1770,  Dickey,  Hasty  Pudding  Club,  and  Signet. 
He  was  the  unanimous  choice  of  his  class  for 
second  marshal  on  Class  day.  Higher  honors 
he  might  have  had,  but  he  took  only  such  as 
were  forced  upon  him." 

This  was  no  mean  triumph  for  a  poor  country 
lad  who  had  come  to  school  and  college  from  his 
father's  farm,  with  no  social  prestige  and  few 


if  > 


■fC^it-'ruic^.-' 


'•\ 


f! 

t     ,1 


I  i    \ 


112  MARSHALL    NEVVELL 

earlier  acqunintanccs.  How  tlirl  he  achieve  such 
a  success?  Here  are  three  explanations  of  it: 
Professor  Peabody,  in  a  nicniorial  address  in 
Appleton  Chapel,  said: 

"  His  alert  and  vigorous  body  made  him 
admired,  and  his  open,  unselfish  nature  made 
him  beloved.  He  was  reserved,  yet  companion- 
able. He  was  not  in  the  least  a  preacher  of 
virtue,  but  in  his  presence  harsh  judgments  and 
loose  talk  simply  found  themselves  silenced. 
Thus  he  was  true  to  the  type  of  wholesome, 
single-hoartcd,  right-minded  youth,  who  leaven 
our  life  and  whose  memory  the  college  recalls 
with  gratitude  and  pride." 

The  memorial  adopted  by  his  class  said : 

"  He  lived  his  life  so  quietly  in  our  midst,  and 
was  so  thoroughly  one  of  us,  that  not  until  the 
realization  of  his  loss  came  to  us  were  we  able 
to  appreciate  the  value  of  his  influence.  If  we 
look  back  upon  the  time  of  our  association 
with  him,  we  know  him  to  have  been  possessed  of 
a  high  and  pure  character;  of  great  ideals,  to 
which  his   life  was   exceptionally   true;   of   a 


^    . 


A    NATURAL    CHRISTIAN        113 

morality  tlmt  was  strotiff  cnourrh  to  talcc  no 
thought  save  that  which  was  riglit,  hecause  it 
was  right  and  true,  and  couhl  not  be  led  away 
by  what  others  might  think. 

''An  athlete  in  the  best  sense  of  tjic  word, 
he  loved  sport  for  sport's  sake.  In  football, 
strong  and  alert,  he  was  effective  without  being 
rough.  As  an  oarsman,  he  was  persistent,  de- 
termined, powerful.  Always  to  be  trusted,  his 
spirit  never  flagged,  his  courage  never  faltered. 
He  was  tried  often  and  never  found  wanting. 
His  character  was  as  sturdy  s  body.'* 

An  old  Harvard  man's  explanation  was: 

"  Of  Marshall  Newell  it  was  indeed  true  that 
'  None  knew  him  but  to  love  him,  none  named 
him  but  to  praise.'  And  what  was  the  secret  of 
this  love  and  respect  that  he  inspired  in  all  who 
knew  him.?  I  think  it  is  best  answered  by  one 
word— character.  Through  his  whole  life,  his 
high  character  was  stamped  on  whatever  he  did, 
whether  at  his  studies  or  in  athletics,  or  while 
working  on  the  far  away  Berkshire  farm,  or 
engaged  in  his  business  occupations  of  the  past 
two  years.     Never  did  a  man  better  exemplify 


4 
1 


•1  ' 

t 


114 


MARSHALL    NKVVKLL 


r 


Haivanrs  motto  of  Vcritnu.  Uv  scomc«l  to  ho 
true-  to  his  own  self  in  i-vcnthin^  hi-  did  i  id 
said.  \Vi'  ail  f'tit,  as  wf  hxikcd  into  his  clear, 
opori  face,  that  hero  was  a  man  in  wliotn  im- 
phcit  trust  and  confidi-ncc  could  he  phiced, 
while  to  his  strenfjUi  and  honesty  were  united  ii 
tiincerity,  simplicity,  and  innocence  nhvnys 
refreshii  lj  and  inspiring.  Ho  reminded  nic  of 
.some  strong,  healthy,  and  nol)le  ouk  or  pine  of 
the  Berkshire  hills  which  he  loved  .so  well,  and 
Ms  life  seemed  to  be  as  pure  and  sweet  as  some 
crystal  stream  flowing  down  Monument 
Mountain." 

It  was  this  character  that  gave  him  his  power 
and  made  him  the  most  popular,  the  most 
beloved,  the  most  influential  man  in  the  univer- 
sity. A  student  who  entered  the  university  the 
year  Newell  left  has  described  his  influence  on 
undergraduates : 

"  In  many  ways  he  was,  and  still  is,  a  living 
personality  to  us  all.  There  is  hardly  a  man  in 
college  who  docs  not  associate  his  na  .le  with 
so.nething  worth  imitating. 

"  Newell  represents  to  Harvard  men  of  to- 


[^tij^  *  __ 


XkL:-..-.-^  ..  #*•   .N 


A    NAT!  UAL    CHIIISTIAN        lir, 

tiny  ftll  that  nn  aHilcto  .sliould  |)c.     Ho  stood  for 
tli/it  sort  of  (ithlttic  uchiovemont  whit-li  is  all 
.•l(•v/ltin^^   manly,  and   lualthfiil   for  body  and 
mind.     Above  all,  hv  was  the  kind  of  athlete  to 
put  to  shame  the  notoriety-seekers  whose  per- 
version of  honest  sport  has  done  so  miuh  to 
injure  athletics.     .     .     .     IJccause  they  prize 
the  loyaUy  which  makes  Imys  strain  side  by  side 
for  each  other,  and  for  the  Ir  colle^'e,  they  re- 
spect the  chivalry  which  will  not  stoop  to  under- 
hand methods.    They  admire,  with  the  full  force 
of  youthful    cntFmsiasni,    tlic    honest    rivalry 
which  teaches  them  to  keep  their  tempers,  to 
endure    silently    whatever    reverses    may    meet 
them,  and  to  acquire  a  hearty  contempt  for  liard 
knocks,  and   all   manner  of  annoyance.      Now 
imagine  these  qualities  summed  up  and  personi- 
fied in  one  man,  and  imagine  all  the  vague  long- 
ing to  emulate  them  in  the  abstract,  transformed 
into  quick,  sincere  iiffection  for  that  man,  and 
you  can  form  some  idea  of  the  attitude  of  the 
undergraduates   toward  .Alarsluill  Newell,  and 
of  the  nature  of  his  influence. 

"  It  would  be  difficult  for  any  institution  t. 
provide  its  members    with  u  set  of    principles 


I 


116 


MARSHALL    NEWELL 


<        f 


i: 


•  f 


more  lofty  and  inspiring  than  the  code  he  taught 
as  athlete  and  as  coach. 

"  If  anybody  had  the  '  blues,'  the  best  thing 
that  could  happen  to  him  was  to  watch  '  !Ma  ' 
hustle  a  football  squad  through  the  last  ten  min- 
utes of  play,  or  to  meet  him  coming  round  the 
corner.  It  was  a  sure  cure.  And  for  any  other 
college  ills,  a  sight  of  that  sturdy  body,  and 
wide-awake,  good-tempered  glance,  that  met 
one  half-way,  was  a  panacea.  Snobbishness, 
indifFercncc,  selfishness,  and  the  like  retired  at 


once 


He  impressed  upon  Harvard  undergradu- 
ates the  value  of  saying  little  and  doing  much ; 
of  facing  small  duties  squarely,  doing  them 
well,  and  enjoying  them,  and  of  getting  both 
pleasure  and  profit  out  of  little,  everyday 
affairs." 

L'^pon  leaving  Harvard,  Newell  returned,  as 
he  had  been  accustomed  to  do  each  vacation,  to 
his  father's  farm  and  his  duties  there.  In  the 
fall  of  1894  he  left  the  farm  to  coach,  with 
great  success,  the  Cornell  football  team,  and 
then  returned  to  Great  Barrington.    In  the  faU 


;--'*l',i«£y  -^r  -TTEsdJHSKMK^ 


mm 


A    NATURAL    CHRISTIAN        117 

of  1895  he  coached  at  Cornell  and  Harvard, 
and  then,  in  December,  came  to  Boston  to  work 
in  the  office  of  Lorin  F.  Leland.  From  this  time 
on  to  the  end  of  his  life  he  kept  a  journal,  which 
reveals  something  of  the  secrets  of  character 
which  his  reserve  had  not  opened  up  to  men. 
These  are  some  extracts  during  the  long  winter 
dayc  that  Newell  spent  in  Boston,  doing  office 
work: 


"  December  S.  Read  some  of  James  Russell 
Lowell's  letters  to-day.  If  all  should  write  their 
thoughts,  how  soon  we  should  be  shamed  to  bet- 
ter ones  or  stop  thinking. 

"  December  3.  Business  men  must  think  a 
good  deal  more  of  money  than  I  do,  to  cm  re 
about  such  a  life.  There  is  no  air,  and  nature 
is  crushed.  On  every  hand  everyone  is  work- 
ing, not  for  his  own  enjoyment,  but  to  earn 
mone}',  and  he  who  can  earn  the  most  is  the 
most  successful.  Late  in  the  afternoon,  as  the 
oun  was  setting,  I  stood  in  one  of  the  windows 
of  the  office  and  watched  the  smoke  from  the 
many  chinmeys  of  the  city  as  it  was  blown  over 
the  housetops;  some  of  it  brightened  by   the 


{ 


ti ' 


: 


f^ 


f 
f 


118 


^lARSHALL   NEWELL 


sunlight,  but  most  of  it  black  witli  its  own  soot. 
Below  in  the  buildings  the  business  men  are 
working  to  finish  their  day's  tasks,  and  in  the 
streets  people  are  hurrying  back  and  forth.  And 
then  I  ihought  of  an  afternoon  on  the  farm, 
when,  after  the  work  in  the  open  air,  I  trok  up 
the  milk  pails  and  went  to  the  barn ;  and  when  I 
had  milked,  walked  in  in  the  twilight  an(  made 
ready  for  supper.  The  firelight  danced  in  the 
fireplace  as  we  sat  down  together  and  ate  in 
comfort  and  peace. 

"  December  6.  Left  the  office  a  little  past 
five  and  walked  out  to  Cambridge  over  the  new 
bridge.  The  air  was  fine  and  the  stars  bright 
and  sparkling.  There  is  nothing  like  nature 
in  the  open  air,  and  that  is  the  life  for  me. 
'  Make  Thou  my  spirit  pure  and  clear  as  are 
the  frosty  skies.' 

"  December  7.  Received  to-day  the  first 
money  I  have  earned  as  a  business  man.  A 
very  pleasant  sensation  to  receive  it  and  feel 
that  it  is  yours  and  you  have  a  right  to  ask  for 
it.  And  no  one  is  favoring  you — yes,  they  arc, 
for  they  might  refuse  to  pay  except  by  the 
month  or  year.     It  would  be  a  difficult  under- 


ik 


A    NATURAL    CHRISTIAN        119 

taking  to  go  througli  tliis  world  without  re- 
ceiving a  favor,  and  life  would  be  wasted  if  no 
favors  were  granted. 

"  December  22.  Read  some  of  Hazlitt  dur- 
ing the  evening.  As  I  was  sitting  in  front  of 
the  open  fire  in  the  grate  after  dinner  this  even- 
ing, I  stopped  reading  and  began  to  look  at 
the  coals,  as  I  used  to  at  the  wood  fire  at  home ; 
but  they  would  suggest  no  pictures,  and  only 
wearied  my  eyes.  There  is  a  different  spirit  in 
the  atmosphere  in  the  city  from  the  atmosphere 
out  on  the  farm,  and  we  have  not  yet  become 
well  enough  acquainted  to  be  on  speaking 
terms." 

His  heart  was  turning  back  to  the  open  air 
and  the  peace  of  the  farm,  and  on  February 
eighth,  1896,  he  left  Boston  and  returned  to 
Great  Barrington.  This  was  the  first  entry  in 
his  diary  after  his  return : 

"  1896,  February  9.  Snowstorm.  Got  up  at 
half-past  six,  milked  one  cow.  Docs  not  take  as 
long  to  get  over  a  longing  for  some  things  as 
it  does  to  acquire  it.  Cannot  sec  so  much  in  the 
weather  and  the  woods  as  I  used  to.     Hope  it 


120 


MARSHALL    NEWELL 


a. 


will  come  again.  Read  The  Spectator  and 
Great  Expectations,  not  because  I  have  any 
myself,  but  I  thought  I  should  like  to  know  how 
a  person  might  feel  under  such  conditions." 

The  charm  and  joy  soon  came  back,  how- 
ever. On  March  third,  he  writes:  "What  a 
strength  there  is  in  the  air.  It  may  be  rough 
at  times,  but  it  is  true  and  docs  not  lie.  What 
would  the  world  be  if  u:  wci'e  open  and  frank 
as  the  day  or  the  sunshine ! " 

At  first  the  pictures  would  not  come  back 
into  the  flames  of  the  wood  fire ;  but  on  February 
twDnty-seventh  he  writes :  "  Fine  fire  in  the  fire- 
place this  evening;  am  beginning  to  see  pictures 
in  it."  And  as  the  springtime  came,  he  moved 
about  his  work  with  delight  in  the  new  life  and 
freedom. 

In  October  and  November  he  coached  the 
Harvard  eleven  again,  and  then,  in  December, 
1896,  he  accepted  a  position  as  assistant  super- 
intendent of  the  Springfield  division  of  the  Bos- 
ton and  Albany  Railroad.  These  are  some  of 
the  entries  in  his  diory  for  1897: 

"  January  21.    Went  to  Athol  on  the  freiglit 


^a. 


A    NATURAL    CHRISTIAN        121 

and  canio  back  on  375.  Rode  on  the  engine 
nearly  all  the  way  back.  Wondered  if  I  could 
be  any  happier  if  I  owned  the  road. 

"  April  19.  If  I  were  free  and  in  the  country 
all  the  time,  my  thoughts  would  be  as  fresh  and 
clear  as  all  its  objects. 

"July  11.  In  the  office  this  evening.  The 
night  hawks  are  screaming  over  the  city.  If  I 
could  only  live  in  the  country  and  have  no  care, 
but  view  the  beauties  that  are  there;  and  see 
the  glories  of  the  rising  sun  and  gentle  beauties 
of  the  morning  dew.  The  music  of  the  happy 
birds ;  the  flight  of  swallows  after  flies  and 
gnats;  enjoy  the  shade  of  trees  at  noon  and 
listen  to  the  language  of  the  leaves.  Dream 
tl  at  the  world  was  filled  with  love  and  music ; 
and  the  flowers  had  a  language  of  their  own, 
taught  only  to  a  favored  few,  and  I  among 
them.  And  at  evening  feel  the  grandeur  of  the 
colors  in  the  west,  and  ride  upon  the  golden 
shafts  of  light,  and  almost  hear  the  music  of 
the  rays ;  the  twilight  slowly  gather  and  the 
breezes  in  the  trees  imitate  the  fulling  water. 
Count  the  stars  that  first  so  slowly  send  their 
light,  until  the  heavens  seem  to  open  all  their 


■i 

i 


(I  'ill 

IM  I!  i 


; 
1 

i. 


122 


MARSHALL    NEWELL 


gates  and  blaze  with  milky  way  and  dippers, 
crows,  and  crosses.  Breathe  a  thanks  to  the 
Protector  for  the  pleasures  we  enjoy,  and  sleep 
in  dreams  so  pleasant  that  the  sunshine  of  the 
daytime  seems  a  shadow. 

"  July  31.  Went  to  North  Adams  Junction. 
Watched  the  sky  through  the  clouds;  some 
places  it  was  light  and  dreamy,  and  in  others  a 
deep,  true,  and  grand  hue  that  raised  spirits 
and  thoughts  to  higher  levels.  If  I  could  only 
look  at  business  as  I  do  the  sky ;  but  I  have  been 
taught  in  a  different  school. 

"  August  11.  Stayed  in  the  office  all  day. 
Feel  like  a  fool  when  I  am  sitting  at  a  desk." 

He  kept  busily  at  his  work  on  the  road,  and 
especially  enjoyed,  as  he  said,  the  out-of-door 
part  of  it  when  there  was  something  vigorous 
to  be  done.  Professor  Pcabod}'  recalls  his  last 
sight  of  him  under  such  circumstances: 

"  The  last  time  I  met  him  was  some  months 
ago,  in  a  washout  on  his  railroad.  Out  of  the 
dim,  wet,  eai'ly  dawn  ho  came,  striding  along 
the  track  at  the  head  of  his  men,  bringing 
courage    to    the    anxious    passengers ;    happy. 


A    NATURAL    CHRISTIAN        123 

proud,  and  fearless  in  the  cincrf;ency,  a  figure 
emerging  out  of  the  mist  like  a  young  Viking 
taking  possession  of  a  strange  land;  and  it 
made  one  glad  to  think  that  our  college,  amid 
its  great  work  of  making  scholars,  still  had 
power  to  breed  sturdy,  healthy,  happy,  work- 
ing men." 

And  it  was  out  on  the  road  that  the  end  came. 
On  Christinas  Eve,  1897,  "  while  attending  to 
his  duties,"  he  was  killed  in  an  accident  on  the 
tracks  in  the  freight  yards  at  Springfield. 

"  While  attending  to  his  duties " — what 
better  ending  could  a  man's  life  have? 


i» 


1 


IX 

THEODORICK   BLAND  PRYOR 
THE   PHENOMENAL   SCHOLAR 

EVEN  men  of  whom  the  world  was  talking 
in  ^heir  day  are  forgotten  by  the  world 
the  day  after.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  the  multitude  of  men  who  in  their  day 
were  not  known  to  the  world,  but  only  to  some 
small  circle  of  friends,  should  be  unremembered. 
And  yet,  often  these  unknown  and  forgotten 
men  are  the  men  more  worth  remembering  than 
some  to  whom  fame  or  notoriety  has  given 
immortality.  It  was  the  judgment  of  those  who 
knew  him  that  Thcodorick  Bland  Pryor  was  one 
of  these.  He  must  have  been  a  young  man  of 
rare  personality  and  unusual  power  to  have 
made  on  college  friends  and  on  all  who  came  to 
know  him  and  who  discovered  his  gifts,  an 
impression  so  deep  anf  abiding.  They  refer  to 
him  to  this  day  as  the  rarest  intellect  and  the 
most  brilliant  nature  they  ever  met. 

124 


[M^^i 


r! 


THE    PHENOMENAL    SCHOLAR    125 

He  was  born  at  Rock  Hill,  near  Charlottes- 
ville, Virginia,  on  July  eighth,  1851.     His  an- 
cestors were  among  the  oldest  families  in  Vir- 
ginia, with  the  exception  of  his  grandmother, 
^fary  Blair  Rice,  a  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Sam- 
uel Blair  of  Pennsylvania.     It  was  said  of  her 
that  "  she  was  a  woman  of  uncommon  strength 
of  mind,  and  most  cheerfully  brought  the  re- 
sources of  her  mind  into  action.     The  heart  of 
her  husband  did  safely  trust  in  her.     She  did 
him  good  and  not  evil  all  the  days  of  her  life. 
Nor  was  she  merely  a  helpmate  for  liim  with 
respect  to  this  world.     Having  herself  enjoyed 
a  full  and  systematic  religious  education,  and 
being  blest  with  a  considerable  genius,  a  taste 
for  reading,  and  a  mind  habituated  to  reflection, 
she  had  acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  doctrines 
and  the  duties  of  Christianity  beyond  many. 
She  professed  great  influence  over  her  friends, 
and  wrote  many  letters  on  the  necessity   and 
iiv.portancc  of  religion.     So  deep  an  impression 
did  she  make  on  ..  -r  son,  William  Rice,  that  he 
requested  that  her  name  should  be  perpetuated 
in  all  succeeding  generations,  a  reque&t  which 
has  been  respected  to  the  present  day." 


■  i 


.1 


I  '3 


( 


Ih 


126     TIIEODORICK    BLAND    PRYOR 

Tlie  hny  Thoodorick  grew  up  in  his  native 
town  of  Charlottesville,  where  the  great  Uni- 
versity of  the  South,  founded  by  Thomas  Jef- 
ferson, was  located,  and  not  far  from  the  states- 
man's home  at  Monticcllo,  From  the  beginning 
lie  was  a  boy  of  fresh  and  original  mind.  "  He 
was  only  five  years  old,"  says  the  little  bio- 
graphical volume  published  in  1879,  "  when  the 
Crimean  War  engrossed  his  attention.  At  that 
time  he  was  visiting  his  mother  at  Petersburg, 
and  amused  himself  by  making  a  panorama  of 
the  events  of  the  war,  which  was  considered  a 
wonderful  production  by  his  little  cousins. 
Every  day  he  would  learn  the  last  news  from 
Sebastopol,  beg  a  sheet  of  foo'  ^ap,  and  add  to 
his  panorama.  At  last  he  rolled  it  into  a  box, 
and  exhibited  it,  illuminated  by  a  candle,  with 
all  the  manner  of  a  lecturer.  About  this  time 
his  father  was  a  candidate  for  Congress,  and  the 
little  fellow  entered  with  a'-dor  into  all  the  ques- 
tions of  the  hour.  On  election  day  he  was  at 
the  polls,  and  selecting  a  commanding  position, 
exulted  in  the  votes  cast  for  his  father.  He  was 
an  ardent  lover  of  play,  and  delighted  in  mock 
battles  with  wild  animals,  and  in  enacting  thrill- 


Lixl 


THE    PHENOMENAL    SCHOLAR    127 


ing  scenes  from  English  history"  His  sister 
recalls  tlmt  "  he  {leliglitod  In  mimic  battles.  If 
out  of  doors,  a  pile  of  stoms  would  he  a  fort, 
behind  which  one  of  us  would  tuke  position,  while 
the  other  assailed  it  with  turf,  corn-stalks,  vie. 
In  the  house  we  substituted  a  chair  and  news- 
papers. He  never  failed  to  become  greatly 
excited,  and  having  found  somewhere  a  book  of 
military  tactics,  he  always  planned  his  move- 
ments in  accordance  with  rule  and  prece- 
dent. .  .  .  I  do  not  know  how  or  when  he 
became  interested  in  astronomy-,  but  I  remember, 
when  we  were  spending  a  day  or  two  with  a  large 
family  of  children,  the  great  amusement  of  the 
older  people  on  finding  out  that  he  had  arranged 
us  all  to  represent  the  solar  sj'stem,  while  he, 
with  a  long  train  of  newspapers  pinned  behind, 
darted  erratically  among  us  all  in  the  role  of 
a  comet." 

At  the  ajre  of  eleven  he  was  sent  to  a  school 
in  Isle  of  Wight  County,  where  he  rose  at  once 
to  the  place  of  undisputed  preeminence. 


"  I  recollect,"  says  his  instructor,  Mr.  Good- 
son,  "  no  particular  incident  illustrative  of  his 


■■  i 


1J>8    TIIEODOUICK   BLAND  PIIVOR 

inarkt'cl  traits  of  diameter,  except  one,  perhaps, 
sliowinj:f  his  extieiiie  sensitiveness,  his  pride,  and 
hip;h  sense  of  honor.  On  one  occasion  I  was  so 
unfortunate  as  to  reprove  hiui  for  something  for 
which  he  -  in  no  degree  responsible,  and  it 
liad  such  an  effect  on  him  that  I  would  have 
given  anytliing  to  have  been  able  to  recall  it. 
I  thought  it  would  break  his  manly  little  heart, 
and  it  taugiit  me  a  lesson,  which  I  trust  I  may 
never  forgot." 


I 


U   t 


i  i 


After  leaving  Mr.  Goodson's  school,  Pryor 
studied  with  the  Kev.  Dr.  William  J.  Iloge, 
and  both  teacher  and  pupil  found  unlimited 
deligh*^  :;■  'hj  ul.  ii'^nshlp.  On  one  occasion 
when  Dr.  llogc  had  kept  his  scholars  too  long, 
and,  suddenly  remembering,  bade  them  go, 
I'hendorick  cried  out,  "  No,  no,  Mr.  Hoge ; 
please,  Mr.  Hoge,  go  on,  this  is  better  than 
play." 

It  was  like  Mr.  Morley's  story  of  Mr. 
Gladstone's  examination  at  Oxford,  where  the 
examiner  being  satisfied,  remarked  to  Mr.  Glad- 
stone, "  Wc  will  now  leave  the  subject,"  and  was 
astounded  by  the  earnest  reply,  "  Oh,  no  sir, 


\i 


-''^V. 


'^IIE    PHENOMENAL    SCUOLAH    l5iU 

we  will  not  kftvc  It,"  wliile  the  >'oung  (Jlatlstonc 
wint  on  to  pour  out  a  flood  of  knowledge  which 
he  couUl  not  nprcss. 

I'ryor  was  tin  years  old  when  the  Civi'  War 
hrok','    out.     His    father,    General    Roger    A. 
I'ryor,  was  a  soldier  in  the  Confederate  armies, 
and  the  rest  of  the  family  spent  most  of  the  tcr- 
rihle  years  on  a  farm  near  Petershurg.     At  first 
Pryor  was  with  his  parents.     He      lent  the  first 
winter  in  camp  with  his  father,      i  lOUgh  he  was 
hut   ten    ye.'Ts    old,   "  among  other   things   he 
acquired  proficiency  in  details  of  drill  and  com- 
pany movements,  while  making  ar  .ly  tactics  a 
subject    of    careful    study.     He    read    all    his 
father's     books,     and    borrowed     others     from 
.\Iajor-Geneii-:     Pemberton.     This     study     en- 
grossed  him    during   the    greater   part    of   the 
winter,  and  wlien  General  Pryor  left  his  com- 
mand   temporarily    to    take    his    seat    in    the 
Southern   Congress   at   Richmond,   the   soldiers 
persuaded  him  to  drill  their  regiments,  lavish- 
ing upon  him  an  amount   of  adulation  which 
might  have  injured  a  boy  of  less  modesty  and 
humility.     His  father  had  no  opponent  at  the 
Congressional  election  but  his  son,  for  when  tlic 


'I 


^   ! 


:      iM 


'ii 


i 


; 


■1 


130     THEODORICK    BLAND    PRYOR 

ballots  were  consulted,  some  were  found  to  have 
been  cast  foi  Theodorick !  " 

After  this  he  was  sent  off  to  a  remote  section 
of  Virginia  to  school  to  be  out  of  harm's  way, 
but  insisted  on  coming  to  Petersburg  to  join 
his  mother,  and  there  he  experienced  the  perils 
and  discipline  of  the  awful  struggle,  studying  as 
best  he  could  amid  the  sounds  of  the  strife  of 
the  last  great  battles  of  the  war. 

\Vh<n  tlie  war  was  conclu'l'xl  General  Pryor 
went  North  to  New  York  City,  to  practice  law, 
the  war  having  destroyed  all  the  wealth  of  the 
family  in  Virginia.  Theodorick  soon  joined  his 
father,  but  was  shortly  sent  back  to  Petersburg 
to  the  school  of  John  Christian,  to  whom  his 
mother  deh'cred  him  at  the  age  of  fourteen, 
with  the  remark,  "•  I  have  brought  you  no  ordi- 
nary boy ;  lit  is  a  scholar  and  a  gentleman." 
Mr.  Christian  trstifies  that  I  his  was  no  over- 
praise. He  soon  proved  himself  the  most  won- 
derful boy  Mr.  Christian  had  ever  taught.  He 
and  one  other  boy,  his  teacher  said,  would  stand 
foremost  among  the  brave  hearts  we  would  ever 
honor,  having,  beside  their  conimanding  ability, 
set  "  such  an  example  of  courage  and  honesty, 


i 


THE    niENOMENAL    SCHOLAR     131 

maintaining  such  a  tone  of  absolute  truth  and 
(ii  l"c  I'e  honor,  as  made  every  hoy,  down  to  the 
iowc-l    classes  in  the  school,  ashamed  to  tell  a 

In  1868  Pryor  went  to  Princeton,  entering 
Junior  year.  It  was  the  largest  class  that  up 
to  that  time  had  ever  been  gathered  at  Prince- 
ton, but  though  handicappetl  as  every  student 
is  who  enters  a  class  late,  Pryor  at  once  went  up 
to  the  head  of  it.  "  He  raised  the  standard  of 
scholarship  in  his  class,"  says  a  classmate,  "and 
it  is  not  saAing  too  much  to  affirm  that  his 
influence  was  felt  by  every  member  of  it.  True, 
no  one  ever  competed  successfully  with  him.  He 
was,  intellectually  speaking,  head  and  shoulders 
taller  than  the  tallest  in  his  class."  He  was  not 
an  athlete,  but  he  was  no  recluse,  and  was  as 
j)()pular  as  he  was  able.  Ho  and  four  friends 
formed  a  debating  club.  It  was  their  lUstom 
to  meet,  determine  by  lot  who  were  to  take 
the  two  sides,  and  then  the  subject  was  an- 
nounced, and  the  first  man  had  at  once  to  rise 
and  begin  the  debate.  This  was  to  prevent  the 
possibility  of  preparation,  and  to  cultivate  the 
power  of  instant  thought  and  statement.    Dur- 


'I 


ii 


,11 


I      ! 


r 


.1 


132     THEODORICK    BLAND    PRYOR 

ing  his  senior  year  there  was  a  great  revival  in 
the  college,  and  within  a  month  of  his  gradua- 
tion ho  gave  his  licart  to  Christ,  and  at  once  set 
about  winning  others. 

To  his  motlicr  he  wrote  of  what  he  had  done : 

"  My  Dear  ^Mother: 

"  God  has  been  pleased,  in  answer  to  prayer, 
as  I  believe,  to  pardon  my  sins,  and  has  given 
mo  strength  to  stute  the  fact  to  my  classmates. 
I  had  yesterday  a  talk  with  Dr.  DufReld,  who 
prayed  with  me  and  gave  me  great  hope,  and 
to-day  I  feel  that  I  trust  wholly  in  my  Saviour 
for  salvation. 

"  Dear  mother,  j'ou  know  not  how  thankful  I 
am  for  the  efforts  of  you  and  sister  in  praying 
for  me,  as  I  know  you  have  done.  Please  pray 
now  that  I  may  receive  grace  from  on  high  to 
lead  a  consistent  Christian  life  and  give  all  the 
glory  to  God. 

'•  I  am  often  troubled  by  pride  and  doubts, 
but  Dr.  Duffield  says  they  arc  felt  by  all  Chris- 
tians. Pray  to  God  to  remove  them  and  give 
me  greater  love  to  His  Son.  Give  my  dearest 
love  to  all.  Your  affectionate  son, 

"  T.  B.  Pryoe. 


THE    PIIEN'OMENAL    SCHOLAR    133 

"  P.  S. — I  wish,  too,  that  you  and  sister  would 
ask  God  to  bless  my  classmates,  for  there  are 
many  whom  I  wish  to  bring  to  Christ.  The 
Christians  of  my  class  have  been  very  kind  to 
me,  and  Wallie  Miller  and  several  other  friends 
have  been  praying  specially  In  my  behalf." 

"  His  faith,"  wrote  one  of  his  classmates, 
"  was  not  without  works.  I  was  in  trouble  my- 
self at  that  time,  and  I  shall  ever  lonicmber, 
with  gratitude,  his  labors  of  love.  I  know  four 
of  the  class  who  were  among  the  most  callous  in 
it,  with  whom  he  labored  unceasingly,  to  induce 
them  to  seek  the'r  soul's  salvation.  Two  of 
these  arc  now  professing  Christians,  and  testify 
that  Pryor  was  the  Instrument  in  God's  hands 
of  their  conversion." 

When  the  class  was  graduated  Pryor  was  at 
the  head  of  it.  "  His  average  grade,"  says 
his  biographer,  "  which  secured  him  the  first 
honor,  was  only  a  tenth  short  of  absolute  per- 
fection! In  all  the  previous  history  of  the 
college  this  mark  had  been  obtained  by  only  one 
other — Aaron  Burr,  in  1772."  He  was  awarded 
the  Mathematical  Fellowship  and  went  the  next 
year  to  Cambridge  University  to  study.     He 


\ 


] 


,11 


134-     THEODORICK    BLAND    PRYOR 

would  have  preferred  to  be  near  Princeton,  but 
Dr.  McCosli  urged  his  going  and  he  went, 
though  he  did  not  enjoy  the  reticence  and  re- 
serve of  English  student  life,  his  heart  longing 
for  the  warm  friendships  that  he  had  known  at 
Princeton.  Ever,  before  going  to  Cambridge  a 
spirit  of  dejection  had  come  into  his  mind,  and 
the  unsatisfying  life  at  Cambridge  only  con- 
firmed this.  In  1871  he  returned  home.  He  was 
uncertain  as  to  his  duty  for  the  future.  He  had 
wished  U)  enter  the  ministry,  but  other  motives 
constrained  him,  and  he  decided  to  study  law 
for  a  year,  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  to  reach  a 
final  decision.  The  end  of  the  year  never  came. 
Though  he  realized  his  peril  nnd  fought  against 
the  mood  of  despondency  which  was  upon  him, 
it  grew,  his  ideals  seeming  unattainable,  and  the 
actual  world  so  hopeless  and  evil.  Time  and 
healthful  diversions  might  have  carried  him 
safely  through,  but  the  end  was  too  near.  One 
night  in  October,  1871,  he  left  his  home  in 
Brooklyn,  and  never  returned.  After  nine  days 
his  body  was  found  in  the  East  River.  He  had 
walked  down  to  the  river,  and  wrapped  in  medi- 
tation or  unaware  of  where  he  was  going  or  by 


THE    PHENOMENAL    SCHOLAR     135 

some  accident  or  misstep,  as  his  sister  believed, 
had  fallen  into  the  water  and  been  drowned.  His 
body  was  take  to  Princeton  and  buri(  .  in  the 
old  cemetery,  where  Jonathan  Edwards,  the 
Alexanders,  and  otiier  great  men  rested,  and 
where  now  Charles  Hodge  and  Dr.  ]\IcCosh  lie. 
Theodoriek  Pryor  niade  a  j)rofound  impres- 
sion on  all  who  knew  him.  Classmates  and 
others  look  back  upon  him  as  a  man  of  pre- 
ternatural gifts  and  qualities. 


"  As  to  the  nature  and  extent  of  his  attain- 
ments," says  one,  "  we  can  scarcely  trust  our- 
selves to  speak ;  anything  like  what  we  be- 
lieve to  be  the  truth  in  this  respect  might 
challenge  belief  among  tho^e  who  knew  him 
not.  .  .  .  Pryor  was  fascinating,  both 
by  demonstrativeness  and  by  reticence,  his 
frankness  and  his  mystery.  '  His  soul  was  often 
seen  on  his  lips  ready  to  fly,'  and  there  was  now 
and  then  a  spiritual  unveiling,  wonderful  in 
quality  and  quantity'.  He  was  too  nuicli  occu- 
pied, however — too  grave,  too  earnest,  and 
quiet — for  that  fragmentary  jocosity,  or  free- 
and-easy  intercourse  on  the  level  of  II  I. tie  noth- 


i'/ 


i  L'i 


1!56     THEODORICK    BLAND    PRYOR 

ings,  in  which  average  natures  take  pleasure. 
His  studies  of  himself  and  his  states;  his  stead- 
fast sympathies  with  the  simplest  objects,  as 
well  as  his  insight  into  the  subtleties  of  nature, 
history,  and  philosophy,  neutralized  the  strong 
affections  which  he  cherished  for  those  around 
him,  and  effected  an  insulation  from  his  fellows 
which  was  not  the  result  of  his  own  choice. 
Througliout  life  he  was  separated  from  the  mass 
around  him  by  the  manifold  superiority  of  his 
soul,  the  greater  quickness  and  richness  of  his 
sensibility,  the  peculiar  keenness  and  gravity  of 
his  conscience,  the  distinguishing  force  and 
constancy  of  his  aspirations  after  internal 
harmony  and  usefulness.  No  being  was  ever 
more  simple,  unpretending,  and  kindly-natured, 
and  yet  he  seemed  inaccessible." 

Another  Princeton  student,  Mr.  Henry  W. 
Rankin,  recalls  across  the  years  Pryor's  noble 
character : 

"  During  all  these  thirty-three  years  young 
Pryor  lias  lived  in  my  memory  as  the  ideal  col- 
lege man,  though  I  never  knew  him.  I  was  in 
Princeton    at    his    Commencement,    and    for    a 


l^^ 


THE    PHENOMENAL    SCHOLAR    137 

week's  time  before  that  taking  my  own  entrance 
examinations.  I  stayed  witl-  oou'^I'.s,  of  whom 
the  elder  was  one  class  Lcliind  Pryt,r,  and  was 
well  acquainted  with  him.  They  told  mc  much 
about  Pryor,  who  was  idolized  by  the  whole  col- 
lege and  the  faculty.  He  was  pointed  out  to 
me,  and  several  times  I  saw  him  on  the  campus, 
on  the  street,  and  looked  on  him  with  a  lover's 
eyes." 

Mr.  Rankin  wrote  several  years  ago  a  sonnet, 
which  will  show  how  deep  was  the  impress  that 
Pryor's  unsullied  life  and  his  rare  powers  made 
on  other  men: 

"  Fearless  and  lionorod  and  beloved,  he  stood 
First  of  a  century  on  a  college  roll 
In  various  learning,  and  in  liberal  arts; 
Wbilc  in  just  judginciit  of  remembering  heart';, 
Of  al!  I    at  knew  him,  first  was  be  in  soul, 
Surpassing  beautiful  and  true  and  good. 
And  goodly  in  his  outward  presence  too — 
Ah!  still  in  eyes  that  saw  him  tears  will  leap — 
In  shape  and  stature  and  in  countenance, 
In  gentle  carriage,  and  so  nol)le  glance; 
Fair  also  unto  God,  who,  from  the  deep. 
Took  him  on  high  there  to  u])lift  our  view. 
Look!    But  his  glorj-  now,  transcending  sight, 
Is  hidden  from  our  gaze  till  we  can  bear  its  light." 


i^ 


fl 


(  I 


In 


fl 


X 


GEORGE  H.  C.   Ma(GR1:G()R 
A    MODERN   MYSTIC 

All  who  attciulod  tlic  General  Bible  Con- 
y~\^  fcrcnce  at  Xortlifield  in  August,  1897, 
and  the  following  j-ear,  remember  a 
young  Scotchman,  rather  slight,  with  a  clear 
Highland  voice,  and  an  even  clearer  mind,  abso- 
lutely simple  and  unpretentious,  but  strong  and 
positive,  who  had  lived  deeply  and  thought 
much,  and  whom  God  had  taught.  Those  who 
saw  him  there  and  were  helped  by  his  clear  and 
honest  Christian  speech  little  thought  that  his 
course  was  so  nearlv  run.  And  now,  though 
he  has  been  gone  for  three  years,  they  recall 
him  vividly,  and  thank  God  for  having  known 
him. 

I  did  not  hear  him  then,  but  in  1891,  at 
Kesv.'Ick,  England,  at  the  great  Christian  Con- 
ference   tliere,    in    the    beauty    of    tlie    Lake 

138 


A    MODKKN    MYSTIC 


i;J9 


Country,  I  heard  him  speak  a  simple  mcssafre 
that  for  its  simplicity  was  unforgettable. 

George  Hogarth  Caniahy  Maegregor  was 
born  in  1861,  in  Fcrintosh,  Scotland,  where  his 
father  was  minister,  lie  grew  up  in  the  rugged, 
godly  circumstances  of  such  a  home.  The  lad 
had  from  the  first  a  thoughtful  mind.  At  the 
aire  of  nine  he  was  sent  with  an  elder  brother  to 
Inverness,  and  attended  the  academy  for  five 
years.  At  fourteen  he  was  one  of  the  head  boys 
in  the  school,  and  gained  the  medal  for  mathe- 
matics. In  shorthand  he  had  obtained  a  full  cer- 
tificate from  Sir  Isaac  Pitman's  Institute  at 
Bath,  as  one  qualified  to  teach  the  system. 
Afterwards  he  wrote  all  his  sermons  and  private 
memoranda  in  shorthand. 

As  he  left  Inverness,  a  relative  offered  to  pay 
his  college  expenses  if  he  would  study  law,  but 
he  declined,  preferring  to  work  his  own  way 
through  into  the  ministry.  It  is  charged  some- 
times that  weak  men  arc  bribed  into  the  min- 
istry by  the  financial  aids  to  education ;  but 
George  ^lacgregor  turned  away  from  such  help 
to  law,  to  work  into  the  ministry  without  it.  In 
October,    1878,    at    the    age    of    fourteen,    ho 


Y. 


i 


^ 


■  a 

/'I 


140    GEORGE    H.    C.    MacGREGOR 

entered  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  Like 
many  Scottish  hids,  he  supported  himself  from 
the  first  almost  entirely  by  gaining  bur  iries 
and  by  teaching.  Those  quiet,  plodding  years 
saw  the  formation  of  habits  of  the  most  deter- 
mined and  unsparing  industry,  of  a  rigid 
accuracy  and  economy,  both  of  means  and  time, 
and  self-denial  that  became  a  second  nature. 
Out  of  such  a  training  grew  the  self-reliance, 
the  fearlessness,  and  the  strong  manhood  that 
marked  him  in  after  years.  He  lived  in  simple 
lodgings  with  his  brother  Alec,  three  years  his 
senior,  who  was  studying  medicine.  The  two 
bright  3'oung  Highlanders  had  no  lack  of 
friends,  but  they  had  no  leisure  to  accept  many 
invitations.  Their  business  was  to  work,  and  to 
make  the  most  of  those  precious  years  and  the 
opportunities  which  would  not  return.  "  I  do 
most  thoroughly  believe  in  hard  work,"  George 
wrote  to  his  sister.  This  Is  one  of  the  entries  in 
his  journal  in  the  spring  of  1883,  as  he  closed 
his  course: 


y 


"  Saturday,  April  7.— At  9:10  saw  Alec  off, 
the  last  of  him  for  more  than  a  year,  perhaps 


A    MODERN    MYSTIC 


in 


forever.  Thank  God  lie  is  saved,  and  will  meet 
me  in  heaven !  O  God,  bless  him  and  make  him 
n  blessing.  May  he  do  good  not  only  to  the 
bodies,  but  also  to  the  souls,  of  many  on  the 
ship. 

"  How  solemn  to  think  of  my  arts  course 
being  finished.  Five  years'  stu<ly  come  to  an 
end.  Blessed  be  God  for  His  goodness  to  me  dur- 
ing it,  and  especially  for  His  goodness  to  me 
during  this  last  season.  I  must  yet  pray  and 
pray  and  pray  that  He  may  use  me  for  His 
glory,  for,  unless  He  do  so,  my  life  will  be 
useless." 

The  year  after  his  graduation  he  spent  at 
home,  tutoring  some  boys  and  assisting  his 
father,  having  a  Bible  class  which  grew  to  a 
membership  of  one  hundred.  He  had  worked 
his  way  to  a  living  faith  in  the  Bible,  and  others 
came  to  the  man  who  believed  with  such  faith.  A 
letter  written  in  1897  to  an  inquirer  for  help 
tells  something  of  his  experience: 

"  You  ask  me  about  my  faith  in  Scripture  as 
the  word  of  God.  I  was  trained  up  in  the 
strictest  possible  way  to  believe  in  the  inspira- 


'I 


iy 


1V2      (JKOUGE  II.  ('.   MacGUKGOU 

Hon  of  the  Hihie.      Hut  tlic  Caitli  tlmt  wns  tlio 
result  of  this  truiiiinp;  utterly  }riivc  way,  and 
for  n  time  I  lost  all  faith  in  the  Hiblc  as  inspired. 
I  hccnnip  an  utter  skeptie.     But  ann'd  all  my 
.skcptieisin  an<l  »l()ul)t  there  was  out  thing  that  I 
eould  not  douht.    That  was  that  I  was  not  what 
I  ought  to  he.     I  was  a  sinner.     Sin  was  a  fact 
in  my  life,      it  was  the  diseovery  of  this  as  a 
fact  that  led  me  baek  to  tlie  Uihle.     I  found  it 
dealt  with  sin  as  no  other  hook  did,  and  under- 
stood sin  as   no  other  book  did.     Other  books 
spoke  of  evil,  viee,  crime;  this  of  sin.     I  began 
to  see  that  the  inspiration  of  tiie  Hii)le  did  not 
lie  so  much  in  its  being  a  miraeulously  accurate 
book,  as  in  its  being  a  book  written  from  God's 
point  of  view.     I  found  that  tiiis  same  point  of 
view  was  kept  all  ihrough  the  books  written  at 
such  different  times  and  by  such  different  men. 
The  whole  book  was  about  God.     As  I  said,  it 
was  '  sin  '  that  brouglit  me  baek  to  the  Bible, 
but  I  found  hundreds  of  things  converging  to 
confirm  my  growing  conviction  that    the  book 
was  of  God.     Our  Lord  Jt^us  became  a  reality 
to  me.     He  acccpttd  the  Old  Testament  as  the 
word  of  God.    He  became  a  witness  to  it  for  me. 


i',,m« 


A    MODERN    MYSTIC 


14fJ 


As  I  hftvo  heroine  more  fiiniiliar  with  the  Bihlc, 
tlio  conviction  has  grown  th.it  (Jod  has  liad  His 
way  till  through  in  connection  with  tliis  book. 
Our  difficulties  nliiiost  all  arise  either  from 
ignorance  or  nilsundirstanding.  A  valuahle 
suhsidiary  evidence  is  the  efl'ect  that  the  JJil'le 
has  on  those  who  accept.  The  history  of  v)ur 
Hihle  Societies,  and  a  knowledge  of  what  they 
are  doing,  furnishes  an  answer  to  many  a  dif- 
ficulty. If  the  Bible  be  not  itispind,  to  explain 
its  influence  and  power  is  impossible;  if  it  be, 
ull  is  plain." 

After  this  year  at  home  he  went  bnck  to 
Edinburgh  for  his  theological  course  in  the 
New  College.  After  his  four  years  there,  he 
came  over  to  Nova  Scotia.  At  the  close  of  his 
season  of  work  there  at  Bridgetown,  he  wrote  to 
his  father: 

"  September  11,  1885. — ]My  work  here  is  now 
over,  and  looking  back  on  it,  as  I  do  with  a  feel- 
ing of  profoundest  thankfulness,  I  seek  to  say 
and  feel,  '  Not  unto  us.  Lord,  not  to  us,  but  to 
thy  name  be  all  the  glory.'  The  Sabbath  morn- 
ino-  attendance  has  increased  from  twenty-five 


144      GEORGE  H.  C.  MacGREGOR 

to  one  hundred  and  seventy,  the  afternoon  from 
fifty  io  one  hundred  and  fifty.     There  was  no 
prayer-meeting,  but  once  begun,  the  attendance 
increased  from  eight  to  forty-two.    The  amount 
raised  for  church  purposes  has  risen  from  one 
hundred  dollars  to  four  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars.    I  find  it  very,  very  hard  to  get  away.  The 
people  have  asked  me  again  and  again,  have 
said  that  they  will  call  me  as  soon  as  they  can 
get   through   the   preliminaries,   and   offer   me 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  and  a  manse  if 
I  will  stay.     I,  of  course,  told  them  that  my 
going  home  is  a  settled  thing ;  and  so  now  they 
are  looking  forward,  in  spite  of  all  that  I  can 
do  to  dissuade  them,  to  my  return  in  the  spring 
to  remain  finally  with  them. 

"  The  work  has  been  hard,  but  strength  has 
been  given,  and  now  at  the  end  I  feel  strong  and 
vigorous.  I  have  preached  since  May  first  about 
fifty  times,  and  written  thirty-six  new  sermons. 
The  want  of  books  made  the  sermon-writing 
very  hard,  but  constant  contact  with  the  people 
and  observation  of  their  weaknesses,  their  trials, 
temptations,  and  difficulties  was  more  valuable 
than  any  library." 


i'l 


A    MODERN    .AIYSTIC 


145 


The  summer  of  1886  ^lacgrcgor  spent  in 
Glasgow,  as  assistant  in  the  Paisley  Road  Free 
Church.  The  next  year  he  was  tutoring  and 
lecturing  in  Hebrew,  preparing  men  for  the 
Divinity  Hall,  and  doing  Cit^-  ^Mission  work, 
and  then  the  call  came  to  him  to  go  out  to  Arabia 
to  take  up  Keith-Falconer's  work.  His  father 
wrote  to  liim  of  this  call  as  follows : 


"  My  Dear  George:  Your  letter  has  put  me 
in  great  perplexity.  I  took  two  days  to  think 
over  it  and  pray  over  it ;  and  yet  I  can  give  no 
opinion.  It  is  a  post  of  high  honor  you  are 
desired  to  fill.  The  elements  that  should  go  to 
decide  are  your  fitness  for  the  post,  the  leaning 
of  your  mind,  and  the  suitableness  of  the  climate 
for  your  constitution.  If  soldiers  and  sailors 
go  into  the  service  of  an  earthly  queen,  the  sol- 
diers of  the  Cross  should  not  be  behind  them  in 
heroism.  Though  I  shall  be  very  sorry  and 
heartsore  to  part  with  you,  if  the  matter  is  of 
the  Lord,  I  can  neither  say  good  nor  bad;  and 
if  it  is  His,  I  hope  He  will  make  the  way  clear. 
The  first  missionary  and  founder  of  the  station 
fell  a  martyr  to  a  noble  cans  ■.    I  trust  and  pray 


<4y  ■vi 


■i  h 


146      GEORGE   II.   C.   M.vcGREGOR 

the  grain  of  wheat  that  died  may  bring  forth 
much  fruit.  Pra^-  that  (iod  may  guide  you 
wisely.     With  all  our  love. 

"  Your  ufFectionate  father, 

"M.  Macgrkgor." 

But  he  was  not  to  go.  Dr.  George  Smith,  the 
secretary  of  the  Free  Church's  Foreign  Mis- 
sions, in  his  account  of  the  matter,  explains  why 
lie  staj-ed : 

"  On  the  sudden  death  of  the  Hon.  Ion  Keith- 
Falconer,  at  Sheikh  Othman,  near  Aden,  on 
Mny  eleventh,  1887,  it  was  my  duty  to  find  a  suc- 
cessor among  our  young  ministers  or  senior  divin- 
ity students.  In  the  session  of  1887-88  I  sent  for 
George  jMacgregor,  whose  visit  to  Canada  I  was 
aware  of,  whose  combination  of  scholarship  and 
spiritual  zeal  I  knew  that  winter.  '  Will  you,' 
I  said  to  him,  *  take  up  Ion  Keith-Falconer's 
mantle  if  the  committee  call  you  to  be  his  suc- 
cessor.' '  His  face  liglited  up  immediately,  and 
then  clouded  as  he  replied  that  he  could  not 
believe  he  would  be  found  worthy  of  such  a  call, 
but,  God  helping  him,  he  was  ready  to  accept  it 
if  offered  to  him.     A  medical  examination  re- 


.jftjRsrrt'- 


rJiO:  !<CV2'  -j:^:!iLStiiSKSb. 


A    MODEUN    MYSTIC 


141 


suited  in  his  being  forbidden  to  work  in  the 
tropics.  His  disappointment  was  intense.  His 
was  the  will,  hearty,  iiiiniodiate,  and  .self-sacri- 
ficing ;  and  God,  I  doubt  not,  reckoned  it  to  him 
in  his  future  career." 

The  man  who  was  willing  to  go  to  Arabia, 
however,  was  the  man  whom  God  could  use  at 
home.  And,  in  1888,  Macgregor  was  called  to 
the  East  Church  in  Aberdeen.  These  were  the 
last  words  of  the  young  man's  acceptance  of  the 
call  to  this  important  church: 

"  I  am  determined,  God  helping  mc,  to  spend 
and  be  spent  in  your  service,  and  I  do  trust  and 
believe  that  you  will  do  all  that  you  can  to  help 
nie.  I  draw  toward  the  young  people,  and 
expect  that  they  will  rally  round  me.  And  I 
expect  sympail:y  and  help  from  the  older  peo- 
ple, and  the  benefit  and  experience  of  their 
Christian  life.  And  from  all  I  do  expect,  and 
demand  as  my  right,  your  earnest  prayers  to 
God  on  my  behalf,  that  I  may  be  earnest  and 
faithful  in  His  work  among  you.  I  am  a  great 
believer  in  joy,  and  in  putting  as  much  joy  into 
my  work  as  I  can.    I  go  on  in  hope  and  faith. 


I   I 


'i   '     A- 


Its      GEORGE  H.  C.  MacGREGOR 

It  is  Christ's  work,  and  I  believe  that  His  king- 
dom is  coming.  I  pray  that  you  and  I  may 
take  as  our  motto  those  words :  '  I  will  go  in  the 
strength  of  the  Lord  God ;  I  will  make  mention 
of  Thy  righteousness,  even  of  Thine  only.'  " 

The  following  year  Macgregor  made  his 
first  visit  to  Keswick,  to  the  great  convention 
there.  The  last  Sunday  evening  he  wrn*e  to  his 
sister : 

"  Sunday  evening,  July  28,  1889.— The  con- 
vention is  now  over,  and  to-morrow  we  go  back 
to  the  world.  To  say  I  have  enjoyed  it  is  to 
say  nothing.  To  call  it  heaven  may  seem  hyper- 
bole, but  it  is,  perhaps,  the  best  and  shortest 
way  of  speaking  of  it.  I  fear  I  shall  never  be 
able  to  speak  of  it.  The  joy  is  unspeakable 
and  full  of  glory.  I  have  learned  innumerable 
lessons,  principally  these:  my  own  sinfulness 
and  shortcoming.  I  have  been  searched  through, 
and  through,  and  bared  and  exposed  and 
scorched  by  God's  searching  Spirit.  And  then 
I  have  learned  the  unscarchablcness  of  Christ. 
How  Christ  is  magnified  here  you  can  scarcely 
have  any  idt  -..     I  got  such  a  view  of  the  good- 


^Pi^SC*^- 


A   MODERN    MYSTIC 


149 


ncss  of  God  to-day  that  It  m.idc  me  weep.  I 
was  completely  broken  down,  and  could  not  con- 
trol myself,  but  had  a  fit  of  weeping.  And  I 
have  learned  the  absolute  necessity  of  obedience. 
Given  obedience  and  faith,  notliing  is  impossible. 
I  have  committed  myself  into  God's  hands  and 
He  has  taken  me,  and  life  can  never  be  the  same 
again.  It  must  be  infinitely  brighter  than  ever. 
To-morrow,  D.  V.,  I  go  to  Glasgow,  and  then 
pass  on  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  Inverness.  I 
want  to  have  some  time  with  George  Ross.  Then 
to  Dingwall,  where  I  shall  get  your  letters.  I 
hope  you  had  a  good  day.  God  bless  you  all. 
"  Love  from  your  boy,  "  George." 


In  this  new  power  he  returned  to  his  work  at 
Aberdeen.  His  work  was  not  confined,  houcvcr, 
to  this  place.  In  1893  he  came  on  a  nii^^sion  to 
America,  and  ^Ir.  Moody  tried  to  pei-suadc  him 
to  remain  in  Chicago  as  pastor  of  tlic  Chicago 
Avenue  Church.  This  call  he  declined,  however. 
"  I  do  not  think  I  am  fitted  for  this  post  in  the 
center  of  a  new  world,"  he  said.  Only  a  littlo 
while  after  his  return  he  was  called  to  "  the 
center  of  the  whole  world,"  as  he  called  it,  an  ! 


'■fJ..M-,^JiX 


jw^gtgg^^ 


I 

' 


.'i 


^  i 


150      GEORGE  H.  C.  MacGREGOR 

went  to  London.     "  The  path  of  case,"  he  wrote, 
♦'  is  not  always  the  path  of  duty,  and  that  the 
path  of  duty  leads  me  to  London  I  feci  very 
strongly."     On  May   twenty-fourth,   1891,  he 
became  pastor  of  the  Notting  Hill  Church.    He 
threw    himself   wholly    into    the    work    of    the 
church.     He    made    it    a    thoroughly    foreign 
missionary    church.     Seven   went   out   from   it 
to  India,  China,  Africa,  and  Palestine.     Above 
all  he   was   a   worker   for    souls.     It   was    not 
easy  work,  but  he  did  it  without  shrinking  or 
reserve.     He  went  out  from   his  new  field  on 
special  missions  as  he  had  gone  from  his  old, 
and  he  wrote  constantly  to  hearts  needing  help, 
and  with  which,  in  one  way  or  another,  he  was 
brought  into  touch.     It  was  while  in  the  Not- 
ting Hill  Church  that  ]Mr.  ]Macgrcgor  came  over 
to    Northficld.      "  The    nearer    one    comes    to 
Moody,"  he  wrote   in  his  journal,  "  the  more 
one  is  impressed  by  him.     He  is  a  giant;  the 
greatest  religious  force  in  America  to-day." 

Busy  and  active  as  tliis  life  was,  and  rich  in 
promise  of  long  usefulness,  it  was,  like  its  Mas- 
ter's, to  be  a  short  life,  and  it  came  to  a  close  in 
peace  and  reality.    His  wife  writes: 


^f^rm^ 


A    MODERN    MYSTIC  151 

« I  have  been  thinking  over  little  details  in 
his  life  which  show  how  wonderfully  he  lived  out 
all  he  preached.     He  never  got  a  check,  how- 
ever small,  without  at  once  marking  down  the 
tenth  of  it  in  his  charity  book  to  be  given  away. 
Then  he  never  was  worried  about  anything.    He 
just  seemed  to  cast  all  his  cares  on  his  Saviour, 
and   nothing   ever   seemed   to   ruffle   his   calm. 
However  busy  he  was,  he  was  never  put  out  if 
interruptions  came.    Often,  when  I  used  to  com- 
plain of  people  paying  him  long  visits  In  the 
study,  when  I  knew  he  could  ill  spare  the  time, 
he  would  only  smile,  and  say  he  was  thankful 
if  he  could  give  them  any  spiritual  help.    When 
he  came  home  tired  he  used  to  go  to  the  organ 
and  sit  down  and  play  and  sing  hymns,  which 
he  said  rested  him  more  than  anything.     The 
last  Sunday  night  before  his  illness,  I  remember 
so  well  his  sitting  down  and  singing  that  lovely 
hymn,  '  Sleep  on,  beloved,'  right  through.     It 
was  the  last  time  I  heard  him  sing.     Strange 
that  he  shou'  \  have  chosen  that ! " 


In  April,  1900,  after  a  very  hard  winter's 
work,  of  which  he  had  written,  "  I  am  very  well, 


ir;r.,. 


M 


152      GEORGE  H.  C.  MacGREGOR 

but  driven  like  a  slave.  I  have  hnrdly  leisure 
to  sleep.  Yet  I  am  getting  fut,"  he  was  taken 
ill  with  meningitis,  and  it  was  his  last  illness, 
and  in  it  he  was  what  he  had  ever  been.  His 
doctor  says: 

"  All  through  his  illness,  when  for  brief 
moments  the  delirium  left  him,  he  thought  not 
of  himself,  but  of  others.  Early  in  his  illness, 
when  I  was  left  alone  with  him,  be  beckoned  to 
me,  and  whispered,  with  a  sweet  smile,  '  Dear 
doctor,  I  am  so  sorry  for  all  the  trouble  I  am 
giving  you  and  the  other  dear  ones ;  but  I  know 
it  is  useless,  I  know  I  am  going  home.'  I  shall 
never  forget  the  lovely  smile  and  the  radiant 
joy  that  seemed  to  light  up  his  face  as  he  said  it. 
His  thoughts  and  prayers,  so  far  as  we  could 
make  them  out,  seemed  to  be  all  for  his  beloved 
people  and  the  Jews,  and  only  once  did  he  say 
to  us,  when  we  asked  what  he  was  saying  (fear- 
ing he  required  something  which  we  might  have 
omitted),  '  Oh,  I  am  just  telling  Jehovah  about 
my  sickness ! '  " 

And  Jehovah  heard  and  carried  him  through 
into  the  perfect  health  of  heaven. 


XI 

^imZA   IBRAHIM 
AN  ALIEN  BROTHER  OF  FIDELITY 

IT  would  be  unjust  not  to  include  in  this 
series  some  young  man  not  of  our  own  race. 
The  difficulty  is  not  to  find  some  one  worthy 
to  be  numbered  with  these  others,  but  to  select 
one  from  the  scores  whose  lives  ought  to  be 
known  by  us.  The  one  I  have  chosen  was  a 
young  Persian  Mohammedan,  who  openly  fol- 
lowed Christ  and  paid  for  his  fidelity  with  his 
life. 

Islam  is  the  only  religion  which  proclaims 
Christ  a  prophet,  and  it  is  the  only  religion 
which  deems  His  disciplcship  crime.  There  is 
opposition  to  Christianity,  of  course,  in  Hindu 
and  Buddhist  and  Confucianist  lands,  but  in 
none  of  these  lands  is  apostasy  practically  a 
capital  offense  as  it  is  in  Turkey  and  Persia. 
There  are  hundreds  of  Mohammedans  who  have 
become  Christians  in  these  lands  and  in  India, 

IS3 


154. 


iMIUZA    IimAHIM 


but  where  tlio  governmenf:  is  Moslem  as  well  as 
the  church,  it  is  usually  because  they  are  un- 
known that  such  Christians  arc  allowed  to  live. 
In  the  early  years  of  the  last  century  the  Turk- 
ish government  frankly  declared  that  none  of 
its  Moslem  subjects  might  change  his  religion, 
and  in  1853  a  young  Moslem  was  publicly  exe- 
cuted after  judicial  condemnation  to  death  for 
the  crime  of  having  apostatized  to  Christianity. 
After  this  execution,  the  British  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs,  the  Earl  of  Clarendon,  wrote 
to  the  British  Ambassador  at  Constantinople: 

"  The  Christian  powers,  who  are  making 
gigantic  efforts  and  submitting  to  enormous 
sacrifices  to  save  the  Turkish  Empire  from  ruin 
and  destruction,  cannot  permit  the  continuance 
of  a  law  in  Turkey,  which  is  not  only  a  standing 
insult  to  them,  but  a  source  of  cruel  persecution 
to  their  co-religionists,  which  they  never  can 
consent  to  perpetuate  by  the  successes  of  their 
fleets  and  armies.  They  are  entitled  to  demand, 
and  her  majesty's  government  does  distinctly 
demand,  that  no  punishment  whatever  shall  at- 
tach to  the  Mohammedan  who  becomes  a 
Christian." 


,y>».aa#:  ■■'-;- 


AN    ALIEN    BROTHER 


ICj 


Neither  in  Turkey  nor  in  Persia,  however, 
have  the  Christian  powers  enforced  this  view, 
and  open  and  aj^gressivc  discipleship  of  Christ 
on  the  part  of  one  who  has  heon  a  Mohammedan 
is  likely  to  result  as  such  devotion  did  result  in 
the  case  of  Mirza  Ihrahim. 

Mirza  Ibrahim  was  a  native  of  Khoi,  a  city 
in  the  province  of  Azerbaijan  in  northwestern 
Persia.    About  1888  he  began  to  appear  in  tlio 
meeting  room  of  the  Protestant  Christians  in 
Khoi,    As  he  came  to  understand  more  perfectly 
the  pure  Christianity  which  he  found  in  this  lit- 
tle meeting  room,  he  became  convinced  of  its 
truth,  and  he  sought  to  be  baptized  as  a  Chris- 
tian.   His  poverty,  however,  and  distrust  of  the 
innate  duplicity  of  Persian  character,  led  to  fear 
as   to  his   motives,  and  he  was   delayed.      But 
nothing  discouraged  him.     His  wife  and  friends 
scoffed  at  him,  but  he  stood  firm,  and  after  a 
year's   probation   he   was   openly    received   and 
baptized  into  the  name  of  Christ.     Believers  and 
unbelievers  were  present,  and  saw  with  wonder- 
ing hearts  the  bold  confession.     One  of  those 
present  "  was  a  Moslem,  himself  a  half-believer, 
who,  after  the  ceremony,  gave  our  brother  the 


15G 


MIHZA    IBHAIIIM 


right   liind  of  congnitulation,  wisliing  thnt  lie 
hiid  like  couriige  to  avow  Ijis  belit-f  in  Jesus." 

Tile  test  of  liis  faith  came  iniinecnatelv.  I  lis 
wife  and  children  and  Miiall  property  were  taken 
from  liim  by  fanatical  Moslems,  and  though  sick 
and  feeble,  he  was  forced  to  flee.  lie  went  to 
Uruniia,  and  found  refuge  in  Dr.  Cochran's  hos- 
pital. The  iiiiiiic  of  Dr.  Cochran,  the  "  Ilakiin 
Sahib,"  is  a  strong  lower  in  northwestern  Persia. 
The  persecuted  man  runs  into  it  and  is  safe.  In 
Urumla  the  simplicity  and  firmness  of  Ibra- 
him's faith  won  the  confidence  of  all.  lie  was 
first  employed  to  copy  books  for  a  little  Turkish- 
speaking  school,  and  then,  as  Dr.  Labarec 
writes,  in  a  sketch  of  Mirza  Ibrahim: 

"  After  a  year  or  two  he  was  sent  out,  at  his 
own  request,  to  carry  the  glad  tidings  of  the 
gospel  to  the  villagers  around,  with  the  small 
compensation  of  four  dollars  a  month. 

"With  such  fearlessness  and  vigor  did  he 
proclaim  the  way  of  life  through  Christ  alone, 
that  the  wrath  of  the  enemy  was  aroused  against 
him;  but  he  only  grew  the  bolder.  Such  a 
course,  however,  could  issue  in  but  one  way.  The 


if 


AN    ALIKN    nUOTHKIl 


151 


nnn  of  the  civil  law,  nt  the  behest  of  Moham- 
niedim  [)riest.4,  was  hiid  upon  him.  He  wrs 
urrestt'd  iiiul  broiij^ht  before  the  Scrpuivst,  a 
siib-jjovenior  ai)p<)iiite(l  over  He  Christians. 
W'ltn  urraijfned  for  investij^ation,  a  crowd  of 
scowling  inulhilis  and  other  Moslems  bein^ 
gathered  around,  the  Serpare-.t  inquired  of 
him,  '  Why  should  you,  u  AIosKiii,  be  teaching 
tlic  Christian's  doctrines?  '  Mirza  Ibrahim  took 
out  his  Testament  from  his  bosom,  and  asked  in 
reply : '  Is  not  this  Ingii  a  holy  book?  '  The  Ser- 
parest  acknowledged  that  it  was,  for  the  Mos- 
lems recognized  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  as 
revelations  from  God.  The  prisoner  replied: 
'  Am  I  not  right,  then,  in  reading  it  and  teach- 
injr  it?'  'But  how  about  ^Mohammed?'  was 
the  question  that  followed,  to  which  the  prisoner 
replied :  '  That  is  for  you  to  say ;  my  faith  is  in 
Christ  and  His  word;  He  is  my  Saviour.'  At  this 
the  command  was  given,  '  Beat  him.'  Ibrahim 
was  knocked  down  and  terribly  kicked,  even  by 
the  Serparcst  himself.  Some  in  the  crowd  de- 
manded his  blood,  but  he  was  taken  from  this 
lesser  tribunal  to  the  governor  of  the  city, 
where,  in  the  presence  of  many  dignitaries,  he 


158 


iMIRZA    IBRAHIM 


••I 
if 


i: 


reaffirmed  his  faith  in  Christ  as  the  only  Saviour 
of  liis  soul.  Wealthy  officials  stood  ready  to 
raise  a  purse  of  money  for  him  if  the  want  of 
that  had  tempted  him  to  ahjurc  his  allegiance 
to  Islam.  But  his  patient  endurance  of  the 
abusive  treatment  heaped  upon  him  proved  to 
them  that  something  other  than  money  was  at 
the  bottom  of  his  bold  denunciation  of  Moham- 
medanism. Some  declared  him  crazy ;  but  not  a 
few  of  the  more  intelligent  military  men,  who 
have  come  to  hold  more  liberal  sentiments 
toward  Christianity  through  their  intercourse 
with  Dr.  Cochran  and  the  better  class  of  our 
native  Christians,  were  convinced  that  Mirza 
Ibrahim  had  come  to  be  an  honest  believer  in 
Jesus  Christ,  and  his  courage  in  confessing  Him 
moved  them  much. 

"He  was  thrown  into  prison  with  a  chain 
about  his  neck,  and  his  feet  made  fast  in  stocks. 
The  city  was  In  an  uproar,  and  the  mob  about 
the  prison  gates  demanded  his  execution.  A 
torturing  death  stared  him  in  the  face  as  among 
the  possibilities,  but  through  all  this  ordeal  his 
countenance  is  said  to  have  shone  like  that  of  an 
angel.      Firmly   he  declared :   '  You  may  shoot 


AN    ALIEN    BROTHER 


159 


me  from  the  mouth  of  a  cannon,  but  you  cannot 
take  away  my  faitli  in  Christ.'  In  consequence 
of  the  uproar  in  the  community,  and  the  desire 
of  the  authorities  to  avoid  a  violent  termination 
of  the  case,  it  was  decided  to  send  him  to  Tabriz 
to  appear  before  tlic  highest  tribunal  of  the 
province.  A  Ncstorian  brother  of  ISIirza  Ibra- 
him in  heralding  the  cross  among  Mohammedan 
villages,  went  to  bid  him  good-by  on  the  day  he 
was  to  start  for  Tabriz.  He  found  him  tying 
his  clothing  in  a  handkerchief,  ready  to  go. 
Turning  to  his  fellow-prisoners  he  said:  '  I  have 
ihown  to  you  Christ,  the  all-sufficient  Saviour; 
you  have  learned  truth  enough  to  save  your  souls 
if  you  only  receive  it.'  He  bade  thtm  a  tender 
farewell,  and  they  all  arose  with  heavy  fetters 
on  hands  and  feet,  and  chains  upon  their  necks, 
and  bade  him  go  in  peace,  tears  streaming  down 
many  of  their  wretched  faces.  An  extra  supply 
of  provisions  sent  him  by  his  Christian  friends 
being  left  over,  the  soldiers  suggested  that  he 
take  it  with  him  for  liis  journey's  needs;  but 
he  answered, '  No,  I  have  a  Master  who  will  pro- 
vide for  me;  I  will  leave  this  bread  for  the  poor 
prisoners  here.'    As  he  left  the  prison  he  turned. 


4 


m 


i^v?wi- 


160 


MIRZA    IBRAHIM 


I 


1 


J'- 

I 


and  raising  his  hand,  solemnly  called  God  to 
witness  that  if  on  the  judgment  day  he  should 
meet  any  of  these  souls  unsaved,  he  liad  declared 
to  them  the  way  of  life,  and  that  he  was  free 
from  their  blood.  Eight  soldiers  took  him  to  the 
house  of  the  general  of  the  cavalry,  whose  men 
were  to  escort  INIirza  to  Tabriz.  In  the  house 
was  gathered  a  crowd  of  Mohammedans,  curious 
to  see  the  man  that  dared  to  defy  mullahs  and 
deny  the  authority  of  the  prophet.  The  priests 
among  them  began  plying  him  with  questions, 
and  scofBng  at  him,  but  he  answered  them  so 
clearly  and  pointedly  that  they  became  ashamed 
to  pui-suc  the  matter  before  the  assembled  crowd. 
The  general  now  permitted  the  Nestorian 
brother  Absalom  to  have  a  final  interview  with 
the  prisoner.  They  embraced  one  another  af- 
fectionately, and  spoke  f  faith  and  love,  and 
possible  death  for  the  Master's  stke.  To  the 
missionaries  and  other  friends  he  sent  a  message 
asking  that  they  pray  to  God  for  the  increase 
of  his  faith.  '  Tell  them,'  he  said,  '  this  firm- 
ness is  not  of  myself,  but  God  is  helping  me.' 
They  knelt  together,  the  general  and  the  mul- 
jilis  looking  on,  and  each  offered  to  God  a  part- 


■M':':ci-if\-^ 


^ife 


AN    ALIEN    BROTHER 


IGl 


ing  prayer.  As  they  arose,  the  general  kindly 
said,  'Have  you  finished,  my  son?'  After  this 
he  was  led  out  to  mount  the  horse  which  friends 
had  provided  for  his  five  da;,s'  journey;  other- 
wise he  must  have  gone  on  foot.  The  general 
was  one  of  those  who  had  been  deeply  impressed 
with  the  sincerity  of  the  prisoner's  new  faith, 
and  was  ready  to  show  him  all  the  favor  con- 
sistent with  his  position.  To  the  escort  of  sol- 
diers he  said,  '  I  swear  by  the  spirit  of  Christ 
if  any  of  you  maltreat  this  man  I  will  cause  you 
to  eat  your  fathers,'  a  caustic  form  of  threat 
common  among  the  Persians.  Ibrahim's  last 
words  to  the  brother  Absalom  were,  '  Pray  for 
me  that  I  may  witness  for  Christ  among  my  peo- 
ple. It  is  a  privilege  given  to  me,  one,  perhaps, 
that  would  not  be  given  to  one  of  you.  Pray 
that  I  may  be  firm.  I  have  no  fear  whatever, 
though  I  know  I  may  have  to  die.     Good-by.'  " 


As  he  went  away,  a  Mohammedan  ofiicor  said, 
"  This  is  a  wonderful  man.  He  is  as  brave  as 
a  lion." 

When  he  reached  Tabriz  he  was  taken  before 
the  governor,  and  asked  what  had  been  given 


1-' 


A 


'ii  I 

t 


162 


MIRZA    IBRAHIM 


to  him  to  Induce  him  to  become  ii  Christian.    His 
reply  was,  "  Nothing  but  these  bonds  and  this 
imprisonment."    He  was  cast  into  a  dark  dun- 
geon, his  feet  put  in  stocks,  beaten  and  stoned, 
and  a  heavy  iron  collar  and  chain  wore  fastened 
on  his  neck.    In  Persia  the  govcnimcnt  does  not 
furnish  prisoners  with  food,  and  unless  friends 
help    them    they    would    stane.      Through    a 
friendly  Moslem,  the  missionaries  in  Tabriz  sent 
Ibrahim  food  and  a  piece  of  matting,  and  re- 
deemed for  him  his  cloak,  which  he  had  pawned 
for  bread.     He  "  was  allowed  to  have  his  New 
Testament  with  him,  and  most  constantly  and 
faithfully  did  he  preach  the  true  life  to  his  fel- 
low-bondsmen.    Thrust  into  prison  for  preach- 
ing Christ,  and  yet  allowed  to  tarry  on  this 
'  criminal '  work  in  the  prison  itself !    Many  of 
the  prisoners   were   profoundly   moved  by   the 
message  from  this  brother.  One  of  them,  a  thief, 
was  so  moved  with  contrition  and  melted  under 
his  instructions  and  appeals,  that  h.e  made  full 
confession  of  his  sins,   and  revealed  where  he 
had  secreted  certain  stolen  goods." 

The  government  licsltated  to  execute  Ibrahim 
openly  lest  it  should  only  increase  interest  In 


AN    ALIEN    BROTHER 


IGil 


Christianity,  and  shake  confidence  in  Islam 
to  see  one  who  had  abandoned  it  die  boldly  for 
his  new  faith.  So  he  was  left  in  prison  at  the 
mercy  of  an  inhuman  keeper.  After  a  while  he 
was  put  down  into  a  moldy  cellar  and  chained  to 
a  gang  of  murderers,  who  roljbed  him  of  his 
coat  and  bedding.  Even  these  he  tried  to  win 
to  Christ.  "One  night,"  says  Dr.  Labaree, 
"  after  they  had  been  locked  up  for  the  night, 
the  prison  inmates  had  been  talking  of  the  two 
religions  of  Jesus  and  of  Mohammed.  His  fel- 
low-prisoners declared  to  Ibrahim  that  if  he  did 
not  say  that  Jesus  was  false  and  Ali  (one  of 
their  mediators)  true,  they  would  choke  him  to 
death.  By  turn  each  of  the  base  fellows  put  him 
to  the  test,  and  each  time  his  answer  came  back, 
'  Jesus  is  true,  choke  me  if  you  will.'  And  they 
did  so,  one  after  the  other,  until  his  eyes  bulged 
out  and  for  minutes  he  lost  consciousness.  They 
desisted  without  actually  taking  his  life  on  the 
spot,  but  as  a  consequence  of  their  brutal  treat- 
ment his  throat  so  swelled  as  to  prevent  his  eat- 
ing his  dry  prison  fare,  and  he  became  weaker 
and  weaker." 

His  condition  touched  oven  his  keeper,  and 


-m^mii- 


164 


MIRZA    IBRAHIM 


)/ 


he  was  moved  to  the  upper  prison.  But  it  was 
too  late,  and  on  Sunday,  May  fourteenth,  1893, 
he  died  from  his  injuries. 

When  the  Crown  Prince  was  informed  of  his 
death,  he  asked,  "  How  did  he  die?  "  And  the 
jailor  answered,  "  He  died  like  a  Christian." 

•*He  through  fierj  trials  trod, 

And  from  great  atHiction  came; 
Now  before  the  throne  of  God, 

Scaled  with   His  almighty   name. 
Clad  in  raiment  pure  and  white, 

Victor  palms  within  his  hands, 
Through  his  dear  Redeemer's  might 

More  than  conqueror  he  stands." 

He  was  buried  by  niglit  in  the  grave  of  a  rich 
Moslem,  whose  body  had  been  removed.  Like  his 
Master,  he  made  his  grave  with  the  wicked  and 
with  the  rich  in  his  death.  His  martyrdom  sent 
a  thrill  through  Persia,  and  brought  many  a 
weak,  secret  Christian  fac  to  face  with  the  pos- 
sible consequences  of  an  open  confession  of  his 
faith. 

If  Mirza  Ibrahim  was  not  afraid  to  follow,  to 
confess,  and  to  serve  Christ  in  Persia,  have  we 
any  right  to  be  afraid  in  America? 

Perhaps  we  dream  of  how  ready  we  would  be 


\<\ 


AN    ALIEN    BROTHER 


165 


i 


i 


to  die  for  Christ.  But  are  we  living  for  Him? 
This  Persian  was  able  to  die  for  his  faith  be- 
cause he  had  lived  for  it.  And  no  man's  dying 
will  be  of  much  honor  to  God  if  his  living  has 
dishonored  Him.  Whether  we  shall  ever  die  like 
Mirza  Ibrahim  is  of  no  consequence.  Are  we 
living  as  he  lived? 

"  So  he  died  for  his  faith.    That  is  fine- 
More  than  most  of  us  do. 
But,  say,  can  you  add  to  tliat  line 
That  he  lived  for  it,  too? 

"  In  his  death  he  bore  witness  at  last 
As  a  martyr  to  truth, 
Did  his  life  do  the  same  in  the  past 
From  the  days  of  his  youtli? 

"  It  Is  easy  to  die.    Men  have  died 
For  a  wish  or  a  whim — 
From  bravado  or  passion  or  pride. 
Was  it  harder  for  him? 

"  But  to  live — every  day  to  live  out 
All  the  truth  that  he  dreamt. 
While  his   friends  met  his  conduct  with  doubt 
And  the  world  witii  contempt. 

"  Was  it  thus  that  he  plodded  ahead, 
Xever  turning  aside? 
Then  we'll  talk  of  the  life  that  he  led. 
Never  mind  how  he  died." 


■J 


XII 


WILLIx\M  Ei\RL  DODGE 


A    CHRISTIAN   OF   PRIVILEGE 


H 


M 


OF  all  the  young  men  whose  lives  are 
sketched  in  these  pages,  none  left  upon 
all  who  knew  him  an  impression  of  more 
beauty  and  nobility  of  character  than  Earl 
Dodge.  To  every  advantage  of  family  and 
wealth  he  added  the  attraction  of  a  pure  and 
joyous  and  unselfish  soul.  All  who  knew  him  re- 
member him  as  next  to  flawless.  The  testimony 
of  the  Hon.  Abram  S.  Hewitt  would  be  the  testi- 
mony of  cU: 


"  I  never  knew  a  more  loving  and  promising 
young  man.  I  have  often  referred  to  him  as 
a  model  of  what  a  young  man  should  be. 
He  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  very  embodiment  of 
'  sweetness  and  light.'  It  is  hard  to  understand 
such  a  dispensation  (as  his  early  death)  for  ho 

166 


Witfi^-'i/i^i^ 


Tli71?I>7^S^*?»sr^aFti*v 


r.itv-l",'.  f- 


A    CIIUISTIAN    or    lMUVIM:(iI":     IfiT 

wfts   the   very    flower  of   promise    in   nil   good 
works." 


William  Earl  Dodge  was  born  in  New  York 
city  on  October  seventeenth,  18.")8.  lie  bore  the 
name  of  his  father  and  his  grandfather,  a  name 
exalted  by  each  of  them  to  the  highest  honor, 
and  he  glorified  the  name  that  he  bore.  There 
are  men  who  inherit  a  good  name  and  defile  it. 
Evil  oats  back  into  the  past  and  attacks  ancient 
honors  to  bedim  and  degrade  them.  Men  for- 
get this.  But  such  iniquity  was  as  far  from  Earl 
Dodge's  nature  as  darkness  from  light.  At  the 
age  of  fourteen  he  went  to  Williston  Seminary 
at  Easthampton,  Massachusetts.  There  his  inti- 
mate friends  were  students  older  than  himself, 
who  were  of  but  moderate  means  and  wlio  were 
working  for  their  education  or  getting  it  at  self- 
sacrifice.  His  wealth  did  not  sock  the  associa- 
tions of  wealth.  It  was  his  character  that 
sought  fine  character  in  others,  rich  or  poor. 
I{e  joined  tho  Madison  Square  Prosbytcriiin 
Church  in  New  York  during  his  first  year  at 
school.  He  asked  that  he  might  return  home 
for  this  purpose,  on  the  ground  that  he  wanted 


h 


•  >( 


«i 


K    ' 


168 


WILLIAM    EAUL    DODGE 


to  be  able  to  exert  the  grciiter  influence,  which 
this  positive  stand  as  a  Christian  would  give 
him.  "  He  was  known  among  the  bo^'s,"  wrote 
a  schoohuate,  "  as  one  who  would  do  no  hurt  to 
another's  feelings  even,  and  we  all  knew  where 
to  find  him  in  a  question  of  right  or  wrong, 
even  if  he  stood  alone." 

lie  left  Williston  in  1875,  spending  the 
summer  in  Europe  and  entered  Princeton  in  the 
fall  with  the  class  y>l'  1879.  In  College  he  at 
once  took  his  place  as  an  unostentatious,  beloved 
and  admired  leader  of  men.  From  the  begin- 
ning, he  threw  himself  into  atliletics. 

"  Earl  Dodge,"  says  the  president  of  his  class, 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Ilalsey,  "  was  a  born  athlete.  His 
tall,  lithe,  graceful  figure  lent  itself  easily  to 
all  kinds  of  athletic  sports.  Such  a  generous, 
breezy  soul  could  not  be  confined  within  the 
four  walls  of  a  room.  He  lived  in  the  open. 
The  exuberance  of  his  animal  spirits  and  the 
intensity  of  his  buoyant  nature — he  did  noth- 
ing by  halves — drove  him  into  every  kind  of 
outdoor  exercise.  He  began  to  play  ball  within 
twenty-four  hours  after  entering  college.     He 


A   CllillSTIAN    OF    PHIVILlXiE     169 

was  among  the  first  of  the  undcrgnuhintos  to 
introduce  hiwn-tcnnis  at  Princeton.  The  first 
lawn-tennis  court  was  laid  out  l)y  his  hand  on 
the  open  space  between  the  fryninasium  and  the 
old  observatory.  lie  rode  a  bicycle  in  tlic  days 
when  the  number  of  'wlieels  '  in  college  could  be 
counted  on  the  fingers  of  one  hand.  To  enu- 
merate the  various  athletic  interests  with  which 
he  was  identified,  either  as  a  player,  director,  or 
promoter,  would  be  to  give  a  catalogue  of  all 
such  organizations  in  the  college  during  the 
period  from  ISTij  to  1879.  His  chief  contribu- 
tion, however,  to  the  cuise  of  athletics  at 
Princeton  was  not  the  liberal  gifts  of  money 
nor  the  rare  skill  an'  prowess  displayed  on 
many  a  well-fought  field,  but  the  new  spirit 
he  enthused  into  every  branch  of  college 
sport. 

"  Earl  Dodge  was  first,  last,  and  all  the  time 
a  gentleman.  lie  was  as  conscientious  in  plav 
as  in  study,  as  courteous  in  a  football  game 
as  he  was  dignified  in  leading  a  prater-meeting. 
He  was  no  weakling.  lie  played  for  all  he  was 
worth.  '  Dodge  had  liis  shirt  torn  into  ribbons,' 
is  the  record  of  one  oi"  the  Harvard-Princeton 


170 


WILLIAM    CAUL    DODGE 


a 


\  i 

N 
ij 

Hi 


\  \ 


I 


football  fjaincs.  Ho  plavod  hull,  hut  he  always 
played  fair,  and  set  an  example  both  on  the  field 
and  in  the  no  less  trvin;f  position  in  the  eonimit- 
tee-rooui,  whieh  won  the  respect  and  confidence 
of  friend  and  opponent  alike. 

**  It  was  larj^ely  due  to  his  tact,  forbearance, 
gracious  niarnur,  and  yielding  spirit  that  the 
first  conference  of  the  representatives  of  Yale, 
Harvard,  Cohniihia,  and  Princeton,  held  at 
Sprin/rfield,  Mass.,  November  twenty-second, 
1876,  for  the  purpose  of  forming  a  football  asso- 
ciation under  modified  Rugby  rules,  came  to  an 
amicable  agreement,  and  a  new  football  era  in  the 
collejio  world  was  inaugurated.  He  was  a  leader 
among  men,  throwing  himself  with  such  ardor 
into  all  sports  that  he  inspired  the  same  zeal 
in  others.  In  the  old  days  it  was  the  custom 
for  the  football  team  to  have  a  short  practice 
after  evening  chapel.  The  then  open  space  be- 
tween Reunion  and  the  gymnasium  was  the  scene 
of  many  a  contest.  One  can  never  forget  tlie 
way  Earl  Dodge  spurred  on  the  team  to  do  bet- 
ter work  In  these  few  moments  of  practice.  lie 
was  in  every  play,  all  over  the  field,  with  a  word 
of  encouragement  here  and  a  word  of  censure 


A    CIIRISTIAV    OF    nilVILKGE     171 

tlii-ns  nnd  if  there  eame  a  sudden  'slump'  in 
the  ^uiiie,  his  clear,  musical  voice  rang  out 
ulmvc  nil  other  sounder  'Line  up,  follows,  line 
up;  you  are  not  playing  at  all.'  '* 

Ho  played  cricket,  tennis,  hasehall,  football — 
anything.  And  it  was  not  athlitics  alone  that 
interested  him.  He  was  a  fine  student,  grad- 
uating high  in  his  class.  He  Icved  music.  He 
rejtiiced  in  good  fellowship,  and  above  all,  he 
w;is  a  man  of  fearless  and  noble  Christian 
character. 

"  A  great  many  beautiful  and  tender  words 
have  been  spoken  to-night  in  memory  of  dear 
Earl,"  said  the  Rev.  W.  T.  Elsing,  D.I).,  another 
classmate,  at  the  Memorial  service  in  Princeton 
on  October  ninth,  1881:  "But  no  words  can 
fully  set  forth  the  beauty  and  strength  of  his 
character.  Everyone  who  knew  him  can  bring  to 
this  service  the  g<-ateful  tribute  of  praise.  His 
life  was  rounded  out,  full  and  complete.  He 
died  young  in  years  but  old  in  goodness.  Earl 
was  manly,  conscientious,  unselfish  and  gener- 
ous. He  was  dignified,  and  at  the  same  time 
humble  and  unostentatious.    He  was  the  strong 


n 


172        WILLIAM    EARL   DODGE 

and  fearless  leader  of  the  '  Champion  Eleven,' 
and  yet  was  delicate,  sensitive,  and  refined  in  his 
feelings  as  a  little  child.  We  love  Earl  for 
what  he  was  and  for  what  he  taught  us.  Many 
of  us  could  \v  rite  over  the  grave  beneath  which 
his  dear  body  sleeps,  *  He  made  me  a  better 
man.' " 

In  every  word  and  act  in  college,  ho  was  clean. 
Men  who  associated  with  him  felt  the  contagion 
of  his  purity.  It  went  into  athletics.  No  mean- 
ness or  unsportsmanlike  ways  or  foul  play  or 
cowardice  were  tolerable  with  him.  "  He  came 
among  us,"  said  Dean  Murray  of  him  in  a  ser- 
mon in  the  college  chapel,  "  bearing  an  honored 
name.  He  has  left  that  name  unsullied. 
.  .  .  His  scorn  of  what  was  low  and  bad. 
which,  like  a  shield,  struck  from  him  every  bad 
and  insidious  temptation,  lifted  him  into  a  posi- 
tion of  moral  supremacy.  And  yet,  his  whole 
nature  was  so  thoroughly  full  of  klnfllinoss, 
that  he  war  the  man  trusted  by  his  compeers,  as 
fow  were  in  college,  with  the  general  confi- 
dence  His     Christian     character 

hung  on  no  perilous  edge  of  doubtful   prac- 


i 


A    CHRISTIAN    OF    PRIVILEGE     17SJ 

tlces.  He  confessed  his  Saviour  before  men. 
So,  throughout  his  college  career,  he  walked 
with  Groa,  and  left  behind  him,  when  he  went 
from  us,  the  blessed  memory  of  a  good  and 
Christian  name." 

"  Everybody  believed  in  him,"  said  a 
man  in  the  class  of  '80.  "He  stood  the 
test  of  ball-field,  class-room,  campus,  and 
Christian  Conference.  Everywhere,  he  was 
a  Christian   gentleman." 

During  his  college  course  he  had  been  not 
only  a  Christian  man,  but  a  Christian  worker. 
He  wrought  personally  for  men.  "  The  dear, 
old,  manly  fellow,"  wrote  a  classmate,  "  so  full 
of  health  and  strength — who  came  nearer  to 
what  a  man  ought  to  be  than  anyone  I 
ever  knew.  On  Sunday  night  two  of  the 
class  were  with  me  and  we  talked  over  all  the 
fellows,  and  especially  of  Earl  and  of  his  un- 
usual influence  and  promise ;  and  I  told  them  of 
one  night  after  Moody  had  preached,  how  Earl 

got  me  to  go  over  with  him  vo 's  and 's 

room  and  he  asked  them  if  they  could  have  a 
prayer-meeting.  There  was  a  whole  room  full 
of  unsympathizing  and  unsympathetic  men — 


M 


174         WILLIAM    EARL    DODGE 

yet  it  Wfis  touching  to  see  how  earnest  they  be- 
came and  how  one  after  another  made  a  short 
prayer."  And  he  was  one  of  the  little  group 
of  those  Princeton  students  from  whose  con- 
ference in  December,  18T6,  the  Intercollegiate 
Young  Men's  Christian  Ab^ociation  grew.  One 
of  Earl's  classmates  writes  of  his  activ- 
ity in  this  matter  and  of  his  many  noble 
qualities  : 

"  1.  Earl  was,  to  use  hU  own  expression, 
always  '  Helping  fellows.'  I  could  give  many 
illustrations.  He  would  ask  whether  such  and 
such  a  man  needed  money.  When  Dutton, 
the  first  man  to  die  after  we  had  entered  col- 
lege, had  passed  away,  Earl  was  first  to  sug- 
gest erecting  a  headstone  to  mark  his  grave. 
Near  the  close  of  mj'  senior  year  he  asked  me 
if  I  did  not  want  to  go  to  Union  Seminary.  His 
father  was  interested.  He  could  get  me  work 
in  some  Sunday  school  and  a  scholarship  which 
would  relieve  me  of  any  neid.  I  was  poor  then 
and  he  knew  it. 

"  It  was  Earl  who  asked  nic  for  the  name  of 
the  best  man  in  the  class  to  send  to  the  Syrian 


i' 


A    CHRISTIAN    OF    VIIIVILEGE     175 

Protestant  College  at  Beirut  to  tench  Knglish 
for  three  years.  I  suggested  one  fellow — a 
fine  man  whom  everyone  respected  for  his 
character  and  ability.  '  Just  t'le  man,'  said 
Earl,  '  why  did  I  not  think  of  him  before?  '  He 
secured  him  at  once,  the  first  of  a  long  list  of 
Princeton  men  who  have  gone  to  Beirut. 

"  2,  He  was  always  full  of  plans.  He  had 
initiative.  There  was  much  loose  living  and  im- 
morality among  a  certain  ty|)('  of  fillows  in  t!ie 
college.  Earl  obtained  permission  froiii  the 
fjiculty  to  have  a  course  of  lectures  calculated 
to  reach  the  fellows.  A  promiuLut  New  York, 
physician  gave  a  lecture  on  '  Sins  of  the 
Body.'  Dr.  Crosby  gave  a  magnificent  talk  on 
'The  Use  of  the  :Mind,'  Dr.  John  Hall  on  a 
'  Young  Plan's  Keligion.' 

"3.  He  was  always  tactful,  yet  ever  on  the 
lookout  for  changes  xsliich  would  ]>rove  bene- 
ficial. One  niglit  at  Thursday  evening  College 
Prayer  Meeting,  Dr.  ^Murray  remarked  on  the 
dingy  room  (we  met  In  the  old  college  offices 
before  they  were  renovated),  and  a>ked,  'What 
has  become  of  the  Kgacy  of  Il.niiilton  Mur- 
r.u?'     Earl  spoke  to  Dr.  Murray  at  the  close 


! 


W 

it 


I    , 


i   « 
1    ] 


ll 


176         WILLIAM    EARL    DODGE 

of  the  meeting,  then  called  two  or  three  of  us 
together.  We  went  to  tlie  treasurer  of  the  col- 
lege, Mr.  Harris,  found  out  the  amount  of  the 
legacy  and  on  Friday  Earl  was  on  his  way  to 
New  York  to  interest  his  father.  The  extra 
money  needed  was  furnished  by  .Mr.  Dodge  and 
Murray  Hall  was  built.  Through  it  all  Earl 
was  tactful,  aggressive,  and  always  ready  for 
suggestions  or  advice. 

"His  tact  manifested  itself  in  an  especial 
manner  when  it  was  proposed  to  link  the  Phila- 
delphiau  Society  with  the  Young  .Alen's  Chris- 
tian Association.  There  was  much  opposition- 
even  bitter  opposition.  Earl  had  Mr.  McBur- 
ney  come  down  from  New  York.  .Aleetings  were 
hold,  plans  discussed  and  finally  the  proposi- 
tion went  through.  Witiiout  his  aid  I  doubt 
whether  it  could  have  been  accomplished  for 
years. 

"The  same  combination  of  strength  and 
sweetness  or  gentleness  was  manifes-t  in  the 
change  from  the  old  '  Association  Game  '  of 
football  to  the  'Rugby.'  The  opposition  here 
was  intense.  Princeton  had  held  undisputed 
sway    for   many   years;   she    would    surely    be 


A    CIIIUSTIAX    OF    I'llIVILEGE     177 


I  beaten  by 


ten  by  \  ale  and  Harvard,  etc.  Earl  was 
largely  instrumental  in  efFectin<5  the  change. 
He  had  the  good  will  of  everybody.  The  fel- 
lows all  trusted  him. 

"  4.  His  Christian  cliaractcr  was  pro- 
nounced. He  was  always  at  prayer-meeting, 
and  was  a  soul  winner.  During  the  revival  of 
'76  he  labored  long  with  one  man  who  was  '  far 
from  the  kingdom.'  This  man  was  one  of  the 
brightest  men  in  the  class.  He  now  occupies  a 
prominent  position  where  his  influence  for 
Christ  tells  every  day.  In  the  providence  of 
God  Earl  led  this  man  to  a  decision.  He  made 
no  parade  of  his  piety,  but  it  was  genuine, 
(leep-i-ooted,  and  vital." 


He  I'.'ft  Princeton  with  his  class  in  the  spring 
of  1879  and  entered  the  firm  of  Phelps,  Dodge 
i^  Co.,  in  New  York  city.  In  December  he  was 
married  to  Miss  Emeline  Harriman.  After  a 
careful  study  of  busirK.-,s  he  was  admitted  as  a 
partner  in  his  father's  firm  on  January  first,. 
1883.  He  entered  at  once  into  many  forms  of 
useful  activity  in  the  city.  He  became  at  once 
active   in    the   city    work   of    the    Young   Men's 


I 

i 


^^.r::.^}*.-j#!^Ly^ 


I 


•':i 


178        WILLIAM    EARL    DODGE 

(."hristinii  Association,  taking  his  father's  place 
as   chairman   of  its   F]lxccutivc   Committee.     In 
the  rooms  of  the    committee    to-day    hangs    a 
large  portrait  of  the  young  chairman,  whose 
memory  is  undyingly  fragrant    in    the    work, 
lie  was  elected  a  director  of  the  Fulton  Na- 
tional   Hank   and    htcanie    n     menihcr    of    the 
Chamber  of  Commerce.      He  took  the   keenest 
interest  in  the  support  of  his  old  college.     He 
gave  time  and  tliought  to  the  Prison  Associa- 
tion,   the    New    York    Free    Libiary,    the    Ro- 
form  Club  and   the  Manhattan  Eye  and  Ear 
Hospital,  Newsl)oys'   Lodging  Houses,  to  the 
mission  work  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  Presbyterian 
Church,  of  which  he  became  a  member,  and  to 
the  Children's  Aid  Society.    And  in  all  his  busi- 
ness   he  was  a  Christian  and  a  gentleman,  a 
man  interested  In  the  highest  life  of  other  men. 
The  clerks  who  worked  with  him  testified  to  the 
sweetness   and    charm    and  genuine   friendship 
of  his  thought   for  them.     He  took  an  active 
interest  in  politics  and  believed  in  discharging 
tlie  duties  as  well  as  accepting  the  privileges 
of  citizenship. 

Hut  the  glorious  life  was  not  to  last  long.    In 


I   if 


i 


SSW^.^ 


A   CHRISTIAN    OF   PRIVILEGE     179 


September,  ISSi,  the  very  night  of  the  return 
of  his  parents  from  Europe,  he  was  taken  ill, 
suffered  greatly  from  a  fever  and  then  after  a 
sudden  change  in  his  condition,  died  quiitly  on 
Sunday  morning,  Septeinhcr  fourteenth.  And 
there  was  left  in  the  whole  city  no  truer,  nobler 
man.  Earl  was  his  name  and  his  name  was  his 
character.  He  was  in  the  world  to  share  in  its 
work.  He  evaded  no  responsibilities.  He 
shirked  no  tasks.  He  modestly  bent  his  strori;; 
back  to  the  burden  of  a  man's  duties,  and  with 
no  noise  he  served  righteousness  with  power. 
What  a  trustee  of  the  college  wrote  of  his  col- 
lege life  was  true  of  all  his  life,  so  bright,  so 
brief:  "During  the  time  he  was  in  college,  his 
influence  on  the  side  of  religion  and  all  that  is 
high  and  honorable  can  never  be  computed.  His 
record  in  that  direction  is  on  high.  He  stood 
peerless  in  the  college.  All  of  us  predicted  for 
him  a  brilliant  career.  We  felt  that  he  would 
be  his  noble  grandfather  over  again.  Mr.  Earl 
Dodge,  as  we  used  to  call  him,  was  one  of  the 
most  complete  and  excellent  young  nun  I  have 
ever  known.  He  was  a  model  Christian  and 
gentleman."    If  ever  a  man  deserved  the  words 


KJ 


180         WILLIAM    EARL    DODGE 

inscribed  on  the  stone  in  Dcrry  Cathedral,  it 
was  he: 

"  Down  through  our  crowded  walks  and  closer  air 
Oh  friend,  how  beautiful  thy  footsteps  were! 
When  through  tlie  fever's  hent  at  last  they  trod 
A  form  was  with  them  like  the  Son  of  God. 
'Twas  but  one  step  for  those  victorious  feet 
From  their  day's  path  unto  the  golden  street. 
And  we  who  watched  their  walk,  so  bright,  so  brief, 
Have  marked  this  marble  with  our  hope  and  grief." 


it 


XIII 

HEDLEY  VICARS 
ONE   OF   CHRIST'S   CAPTAINS 

ABOUT  seventy  years  ngo  a  small  boy, 
/V  who  had  behaved  ill  at  family  prayers 
and  been  reproved  by  his  mother,  did 
what  many  small  boys  resolve  to  do  under  de- 
served reproof — felt  himself  greatly  aggrieved, 
withdrew  to  a  little  cave  in  the  garden,  blocked 
the  entrance  to  prevent  pursuit,  and  declared 
that  he  would  stay  there  for  the  night.  Of 
course,  like  small  boys  in  the  same  bad  spirit 
to-day,  he  did  not  spend  the  night  there,  but 
came  back  sensibly  to  his  own  comfortable  bed. 

This  most  typical  small  boy  was  Ilcdley  Vic- 
ars, whose  name  has  been  for  generations  a 
synonym  of  fearless  and  reverent  Christian  de- 
votion in  his  life  as  a  soldior.  He  was  bom  on 
December  seventh,  1826,  in  Mauritius,  an  island 
oast  of  Madagascar,  whore  his  father  was  sta- 
tioned in  discharge  of  his  military  duties.     His 

181 


riBki 


182 


HEDLEY    VICARS 


family  wa-  dcscemlod  from  a  Spaniard,  who 
came  to  England  with  Catherine  of  Aragon. 
The  father  died  when  Hcdlcy  was  yet  a  hoy,  and 
one  of  the  last  things  he  did  was  to  lay  his  hand 
on  his  son's  head  and  pray  that  he  might  be 
a  good  soldic  r  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  lad  was 
full  of  other  thoughts,  however,  and  his  school 
years  in  preparation  for  his  own  army  life  were 
not  wisely  spent  years.  Like  other  foolish  boys, 
he  dotlged  "the  drudgery  which  would  have 
laid  the  foundation  for  honors  and  advance- 
ment." 

Bv  the  time  he  was  seventeen  he  had  entered 
the    army    and   was    attached   to    the    Ninety- 
seventh    Uogimeiit    in    the   Isle   of  Wight   and 
thence  removid  to  the  Island  of  Corfu  off  the 
west  cast  of  Turkey.    He  wrote  in  after  years 
of  these  days,  "  I  would  give  worlds  to  undo 
what  I  then  did."    Even  his  Bible  had  been  lost 
and  the  loss  was  no  worrinient  to  him.     From 
Corfu    he  went  to  Cephalonia  and  Zante,  and 
sowed  more  wild  oats  as  he  went,  in  reckless  liv- 
ing and  waste,  laying  up  debts,  which  troubled 
him  more  to  pay  than  to  incur.     After  three 
years  in  the  Mediterranean    his  regiment  was 


ONE    OF    CIUUST'S    (ArrAlNS     18:J 


ordered   across    the   Atlantic   to  Jmnuic-.i   iiiul 
then  In   1851    to  llalifux.     An  nssipnmcnt  of 
duty   took   him    past   Niagara,   and   the   Fulls 
preached  him  a  memorable  sermon  on  the  waste 
of  life  and  tlic  duty  of  living  t.i  G(k1.     When 
he  returned  to  Halifax,  thoughtful  about  him- 
self, he  was  waiting  in  barracks  one  evening  for 
a  fellow-officer  and  saw  a  Bible  lying  near.    lie 
picked  it  up  to  while  away  the  time,  and  as  he 
turned  over  the  pages,  his  eye  fell  on  the  words 
in  the  First  Epistle  of  John:  "The  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  his  Son  clcanseth  us  from  all  sin." 
That  was  enough.     The  leaching  of  his  boyhood 
came  to  fruitage,  and  his  father's  last  prayer 
began  its  fulfilhnent.     That  night   Vicars  broke 
from  the  old  life  and  began  the  new.     "  What  I 
have  to  do,"  said  he,  as  he  set  out  on  the  course 
in  which  he  never  wavered,  "  is  to  go  forward.  I 
cannot    return    to    the    sins    from    which    my 
Saviour  has  cleansed  me  with  His  own  blood." 

He  resolved  at  once  to  fly  his  colors.  That 
next  morning  he  bought  a  large  Bible  and  laid 
it  openly  on  his  table.  "  It  was  to  speak  for 
me,"  he  said,  "before  I  was  strong  enough  to 
speak  fur  myself."     It  spoke  with  elFeel,  and 


I. 


imi^^s^^^L^ -^.^ 


yr^ 


'-yJi^iifivt^.T.r''. 


t?i»v»>' 


MICROCOPY    RESOLUTION    TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0 


I.I 


|50      "™^^ 


140 


1.25 


1.4 


1.6 


^  APPLIED  IIVMGE     Inc 

^^  1653   East   Wain   Street 

TJZ  Rochester.   New   York         14609       USA 

J^  (716)    482  -  0300  -  Ptione 

^SZ  (716)   288  -  5989  -  Fax 


mswfmi 


184 


HEDLEY    VICARS 


J  ■ 


t.iany  of  his  old  companions  made  sport  of  his 
religion  or  cut  him  for  it.  He  stood  by  his 
guns,  but  not  without  trembling.  "  Would  that 
I  felt  as  little  fear  of  being  called  a  Christian," 
he  said,  "  as  I  used  to  feel  in  being  enlisted 
against  Christianity."  Yet  trembling  was  not 
retreating,  and  he  went  straight  on  with  his 
duties  alike  as  a  Christian  and  as  a  soldier. 
"Enable  me,  Lord  Jesus,"  he  prayed,  "to 
please  my  colonel  and  yet  to  please  Thee." 

In  1853  his  regiment  was  ordered  home. 
The  man  who  came  back  was  a  very  different 
man  from  the  young  fellow  who  had  sailed  for 
Corfu  seven  years  before.  This  man  was  clean 
and  honest,  compact  in  character,  serious  and 
steady,  and  an  outspoken  Christian,  who,  when 
he  felt  shame,  conquered  it,  and  li-ed  his  life 
as  a  Christian  openly  before  men.  All  that  his 
Christianity  could  do  for  him  in  giving  courage 
and  strength  he  was  to  need,  for  in  a  year  he 
was  ordered  off  with  his  regiment  to  the  Cri- 
mean War.  It  was  a  different  regiment  through 
his  influence.  "  Mr.  Vicars  has  steadied  nearly 
four  hundred  men  in  the  regiment,"  said  a  sol- 
dier, "Tour  hundred  of  the  wildest  and  most 


ONE    OF    CHRIST'S    CAPTAINS     185 

drunken  lot.  There  isn't  a  better  officer  in  the 
queen's  service."  And  he  was  to  steady  his 
men  in  the  midst  of  battle,  too,  and  from  the 
storm  and  peril  he  was  never  to  return. 

The  Crimean  War,  almost  cvcr^'one  now  feels, 
was  a  very  miserable  piece  of  business.  It  was 
fought  by  England  and  France  against  Rus- 
sia for  the  sake  of  Turkey,  which  ought  long 
ago  to  have  been  taken  away  from  tiio  Sultan. 
It  accomplished  little  lasting  good,  and  it  did 
a  great  deal  of  lasting  harm.  And  part  of  its 
harm,  as  in  all  war,  was  the  wasteful  destruc- 
tion of  thousands  of  useful  lives.  The  war  was 
horribly  mismanaged  and  multitudes  of  English 
and  French  soldiers  died  of  disease  or  because 
of  inefficient  commissary  service. 

"  Even  when  stores  came  safely  into  the  har- 
bor of  Balaklava,  they  very  often  did  not  reach 
the  troops  encamped  on  the  heights  for  weeks 
after ivards,  or  were  even  sent  back  to  the  Bos- 
phorus,  because  there  were  no  hands  for  un- 
loading, or  no  official  who  could  give  orders  re- 
garding a  particular  cargo,  or  else  the  one  who 
was  there  made  some  ridiculous  blunder.  In 
this   way,  medicines   and   hospital   stores   were 


'■■] 


-'t;^.'^ 


! 


If 


i 


'if 


I 


h 
III  i 

11!  ' 


186 


IIEDLEY    VICARS 


actually  carried  away  from  the  sick  and 
wounded.  Stretchers  could  not  be  obtained, 
because  the  canvas  was  in  one  ship  and  the 
frames  in  another.  Cabbages  floated  about  in 
the  sea  and  the  lime  juice  waited  in  the  ships, 
while  the  men  were  dying  of  scurvy  for  the 
want  of  thorn  both.  Tents  that  were  needed  in 
November  arrived  in  April  and  immense  stores 
of  warm  clothing  lay  idle  while  the  men  were 
shivering  in  rags." 

It  was  into  this  misery  that  Hedley  Vicars 
came  on  November  twentieth,  1854.  It  was  in 
a  pouring  rain,  and  the  men  inarched  through 
mud,  "  looking,"  as  ho  said,  "  more  like  drowned 
rats  than  like  soldiers."  That  night  by  the 
bivouac  fire  he  read  with  a  friend  the  Twenty- 
third,  Ninetieth,  and  Ninety-first  Psalms,  and 
then  slept  on  a  bed  of  leaves  with  a  stone  for 
a  pillow.  All  that  winter  the  troops  sat  in 
front  of  Sebastapol,  the  cholera  playing  havoc 
with  thorn,  and  the  Russians  holding  their  own. 
It  was  killing  work  for  a  soldier,  sitting  in  his 
trenches  and  looking  at  disease  and  getting  no 
orders  to  rise  up  and  fight. 

But    in   March     active   operations   were   re- 


|i    ?1 


ONE    OF    CHRIST'S    CAPTAINS     187 


I 

9 


sumed,  and  in  one  of  the  frequent  encounters  of 
the  spring  Captain  Vicars  ended  his  short  life. 
On  the  last  Sunday,  he  hud  spent  tlio  day  in 
hospital  visits  and  reading  and  ])rayers.  In 
the  evening  he  wrote:  "  I  have  felt  tliis  day  to 
be  just  like  Sunday,  and  have  derived  much 
comfort  from  communion  with  my  G'  1  and 
Saviour."  He  had  been  walking  with  his  friend 
Cay  and  tells  how  they  had  "  exchanged 
thoughts  about  Jesus."  The  last  words  he 
wrote  were :  "  In  Jesus  I  find  all  I  want  of  hap- 
piness or  enjoyment,  and  as  weeks  and  months 
roll  by,  I  believe  He  is  becoming  more  and  more 
lovely  in  my  eyes." 

On  the  night  of  March  twenty-second  eight 
thousand  Russians  attacked  the  French  lines, 
and,  driving  them  back,  marched  right  on  the 
British  trenches.  They  were  at  first  mistaken 
for  the  French  allies.  Vicars  discovered,  how- 
ever, that  the  columns  approaching  were  Rus- 
sians and  not  French,  and  made  ready.  He 
had  but  two  hundred  men,  but  as  the  Russian 
force  of  two  thousand  came  down  on  him,  he 
led  his  little  band  straight  upon  them  in  the 
darkness.     He  was  wounded  by  a  bayonet,  but 


^':l 


188 


HEDLEY    VICARS 


springing  upon  the  parapet  of  the  trenches  and 
crying,   "Men   of   the   Ninety-seventh,   follow 
nie !  "  he  dashed  down  before  his  men  upon  the 
enemy.    There  was  a  fierce  struggle  in  the  dark- 
ness.     Other   troops   came   up,   and   after   an 
hour's  hard  fighting    the  Russians  were  driven 
back,  but  Vicars  had  fallen  in  the  conflict.    "  He 
had  been  struck  in  the  right  arm,  close  to  the 
shoulder,  the  ball  cutting  in  two  a  main  artery, 
from  which  the  life-blood  ebbed  only  too  fast, 
unchecked,  and  probably  unseen,  in  the  mid- 
night darkness.     Even  the  wounded  man  him- 
self was,  at  first,  quite  unaware  of  danger.    He 
assured  his  anxious  friends  that  his  hurt  was 
slight,  and  that  he  would  soon  recover,  until, 
as  they  carried  him  forward,  though  apparently 
not  suffering  much  pain,  he  was  warned  by  in- 
creasing exhaustion  that  his  life  was  failina: 
fast."    Chilled  by  the  loss  of  blood  and  by  ex- 
posure to  the  night  uir,  he  asked  for  his  cloak. 
"  Cover  my  face,"  he  said  a  few  minutes  after, 
"  cover  my  face,"  and  so  he  passed  on  beyond 
all  battle  to  the  land  of  peace. 

They  dug  his  grave  by  a  milestone  on  the 
WoronzofF  road  and  Dr.   Cay  afterwards  set 


ONE    OF    CHRIST'S    CAPTAINS     189 

up  a  stone,  marking  the  spot,  and  with  an  in- 
scription to  the  memory  of  the  young  soldier, 
who  in  life  and  death  followed  his  Captain, 
Christ. 

Captain  Hcdlcy  Vicars  died  before  he  was 
twenty-nine,  and  yet  his  name  has  been  known 
around  the  world.  What  made  it  known?  His 
courageous  death.''  Thousands  of  soldiers, 
equally  brave,  have  fought  and  died  for  their 
country.  Not  his  death,  but  his  life  has  made 
his  memory  beloved;  a  life  of  whole-hearted 
loyalty  to  Christ;  of  open  discipleship  and  of 
earnest  effort  to  win  others  to  the  same  Mas- 
ter, whom  he  loved  and  served  for  himself.  If 
he  could  face  the  sneers  of  men  and  live  down 
their  prejudices,  and  with  heroic  faithfulness 
do  his  duty  as  a  Christian  and  a  gentleman,  so 
may  every  young  man  to-day,  whether  in  the 
army  or  the  navy,  in  college  or  in  business,  at 
home  or  in  the  Philippines,  or  South  America 
or  Japan.  The  right  life  is  the  possible  life 
for  each  of  us.    It  is  the  only  possible  life. 


XIV 


I 


CORTLAXDT    \A\    RENSSELAER 
HODGE 

A    Pl{I^rIJTOX    MAUTYR 

THE  roll  of  martyrs  conh-iins  many  names 
of  men  and  women  of  high  and  noble 
character,  but  those  who  knew  Rensse- 
laer Hodrre  and  his  wife  are  sure  that  there 
liave  never  been  martyrs  whose  character  could 
have  been  more  beautiful  or  sincere  than  theirs. 
Each  age  has  its  own  type,  and  the  great  Chris- 
tians of  one  time  display  a  different  emphasis 
and  proportion  from  the  Christians  of  another 
time,   but    in    what   is   essential   and    eternally 
worthy,   t'      true  Christians   of  all  times   are 
alike.     I     m  their  childhood  and  in  all  their 
lives  before  they  were  married  and  went  out  to 
China  and  afterwards,  Rensselaer  Hodge  and 
Elsie  Sinclair  showed  forth  the  qualities  of  per- 
fect purity,  gentleness,  and  strength,  which  we 
owe  to  Christ  and  sec  in  all  Christlikeness. 

190 


A    IMUNCKTON    MARTVIl 


101 


lie  WHS  born  in  Hiirlln^ton,  \<\v  Jcrsoy,  'Tuly 
first-,  1872.  Wluii  he  whs  less  I  linn  h  ycnr  old 
H(i(l  liis  life  scciiH'd  to  liHiif^  by  n  thread  In  a 
serious  illness,  the  skill  of  his  uncle,  Dr.  II. 
Lenox  IIod<>;e,  one  of  the  foremost  physicinns 
in  Phihuh-lphin,  sufj^ested  trentinent  which  re- 
stored him  to  lunlth.  He  grew  up  under  the 
richest  Christinn  influence  in  h  true  Christinn 
home,  where  the  children  were  tnupjht  thnt  they 
were  born  in  the  Church,  thnt  Christ  whs  their 
Snvlour,  thnt  God  was  their  henveidy  Fntlier, 
and  that  they  were  alwHys  to  think  of  the  Sav- 
iour and  Father  as  theirs  to  love,  and  to  obey. 
The  boy  never  thought  of  himself  as  outside 
the  fold  of  the  Shepherd,  to  be  some  day  sought 
and  brought  in.  His  father  early  suggested 
to  him  that  he  might  have  the  privilege  of  com- 
ing to  the  Lord's  Table,  and  the  idea  was  wel- 
comed with  eagerness.  In  his  letter  to  the 
Presbyterian  Board  of  Foreign  Missions,  offer- 
ing himself  for  work  in  China,  Rensselaer  recalls 
the  quiet  way  in  which  he  grew  up  into  the 
Christian  faith: 


"  So   fur   as  my   religious   history  goes,   it 


'\\ 


IIW     rOUTLANDT    Van    H.    IIODGK 

is  soon  told.  IJoni  of  cjiriicsf,  God  fiiiring 
parents,  from  inv  iiirlicst  iluldliood  I  Imvo  been 
t.ui«j:lit  flio  Hil)li\  till' Shorter  Catofhisin,  luid  tlic 
^rcjit  doi'triiits  of  our  f.'iitli,  and  I  can,  in  fact, 
truly  sav  that,  so  long  as  I  can  rctncinhcr,  I 
have  hcUcved  on  our  Lord  .Icsus  Christ.  As 
soon  as  I  canio  to  years  of  discretion  I  niado  a 
public  confession  of  my  faith,  and  I  have  tried 
to  walk  according  to  it  ever  since." 

Modestly  thinking  that  he  did  not  have  the 
gift  for  public  address,  he  felt  that  he  should 
not  enter  the  nu'nistry,  which  he  would  have 
loved  to  do,  and  he  chose  as  the  work  for  which 
he  was  fitted  the  study  of  medicine  and  the  life 
of  a  missionary.  How  he  came  to  this  purpose, 
he  explained  to  the  Board.  In  answer  to  the 
question,  "  How  long  have  you  entertained  the 
desire  to  become  a  foreign  missionary?"  he 
replied :  "  Ever  since  I  Mas  old  enough  to  think 
about  my  life-work."  And  he  wrote  more  at 
length : 

"  I  have  thought  about  this  matter  a  great 
deal.  I  have  p'-ayed  rbout  it,  and  ever  since  I 
liave  given  my  thought  as  to  what  I  should  do 


A    PIUNC  KTON    MAUTVU 


1I):J 


*  when  I  ^^row  up,'  I  h/ivc  (M(  riiilmd,  if  God 
were  willing,  that  I  would  \u-  n  foreign  mis- 
.slofiury.  It  Is  IK)  .sudd<  II  iiiipid^c  on  my  part, 
hut  the  result  of  years  of  thou^lil  ami  pravrr. 
In  faet,  all  through  my  >ludit  >  at  colli  oc  and 
In  the  niedi'-al  school,  I  have  kept  this  one 
thought  in  mind,  and  now,  as  Ihe  time  draws 
near,  I  am  anxiously  watching  for  the  way  to 
he  opened." 

And  again,  in  answer  to  further  inquiry: 

"  My  motive  for  desiring  to  enter  the  foreign 
missionary  work  is  simply  that  it  has  si'emid 
to  me  from  the  very  heginning  that  God  wished 
me  to  go  there.  1  have  helieved  always  that  one 
should  go  where  he  cai  (i<  the  most  in  God's 
service,  and  it  has  nW.  -•>''  '  to  nic  that 
I  could  accomplisli  mo-^t  for 
missionary.  It  was  with  li 
that  I  started  my  study  of  in- 
always  only  grown  more  dete- 
is  God's  will,  as  the  time  draws  i..     r." 


I  as  a  foreign 

>u;^ht  in  niind 

and  I  h  no 

)  go,  if  it 


I 


Tn  preparation  for  his  life   '■>!       ht      ntcrod 
Princeton  College  in  the  fall  of  1>         vith     'le 


191    COUTLANDT   Van   U.    IIOIKJK 


11 


class  of  18953.  lie  led  In  college  tlu*  same 
bliimclcss  life  which  '  o  hiul  lived  as  a  bov,  and 
when  ho  ollVred  himself  later  to  the  Board,  one 
of  his  teachers,  a  man  of  careful  speech,  not 
given  to  over-praise,  wrote: 

"  I  have  been  teaching  thirteen  years  in 
Princeton,  and  nnist  have  had  nearly  two  thou- 
sand young  men  in  my  classes  during  that  time. 
Dr.  Hodge  is  the  one  for  whom  I  feel  the  great- 
est personal  affection.  His  class  (1893)  was 
more  scholarly  than  the  average.  I  think  he 
graduated  third  in  rank.  There  have  been  only 
a  few  under  m}'  instruction  whose  scholarship 
has  been  as  thorough  and  accurate  as  his ;  only 
one  or  two  in  whom  it  has  been  characterized 
by  as  much  refinement  and  good  taste.  It  seems 
very  superfluous  to  recommend  him.  You  are 
getting  a  very  rare  young  man." 

After  leaving  Princeton  he  went  to  the  Uni- 
versity of  Pennsylvania  for  his  medical  course, 
and  then  took  a  hospital  appointment  in  the 
Presbyterian  Hospital  in  Philadelphia.  What 
he  was  in  himself,  he  appeared  to  others — a 
Christian  man  and  a  gentleman.     The  Dean  of 


A    rUl\(  HTON    MAinVll 


1!)" 


;. ! 


the  .Medical  School  wrote  of  him  to  the  Mis- 
siomir^'  IJojird: 

"  I  have  been  personally  acquainted  with 
C'ortlandt  Van  R.  Hod^rj.  since  the  time  he  en- 
tered the  University  of  Pemisylvania  as  ft 
student  of  medicine.  During  the  entire  period 
of  his  course  at  the  university  his  scholastic 
standing  was  excellent,  and  on  graduation  he 
was  considered  hy  his  instructors  as  one  of  the 
best  equipped  men  in  his  class.  Since  gradua- 
tion he  has  had  service  in  a  hospital,  which,  of 
course,  has  contributed  to  his  practical  knowl- 
edge of  the  treatment  of  the  sick.  He  is  a 
thoroughly  straightforward,  energetic  young 
Mian — a  gentleman  in  every  respect." 

There  is  a  common  notion  among  many 
young  men  that  no  young  man  can  live  a  flaw- 
loss  life;  that  every  life  has  its  lapses  and  its 
stains ;  that  some  conceal  them  and  some  recover 
from  them,  but  that  there  are  only  spotted  men 
and  Pharisees.  And  there  is  another  common 
notion  that,  when  a  young  man  does  live  a 
stainless  life,  he  must  be  a  man  incapable  of  its 
conmion  pleasures  and  joys.     There  are  hun- 


I 


i 


i; 


1 ' 
I 


•I   --' 


1  i 


1         lij 
1 


196    CORTLANDT   Van   R.    HODGE 

dreds  of  young  men  whose  lives  correct  these 
errors.  Rensselaer  Hodge  was  their  utter 
refutation. 

No  life  could  have  been  more  filled  with  whole- 
some, quiet  joy  than  his. 

It  was  one  of  those  rounded,  complete  lives 
in  which  no  distorted  virtues  stood  out  obtru- 
sively ;  not  filled  with  erratic  or  exceptional  ex- 
periences, but  "  steadfast  and  still."  One  of 
his  classmates,  Mr.  James  S.  Rogers,  of  .Phila- 
delphia, writes  in  reply  to  an  inquiry  as  to  such 
incidents  as  might  illustrate  his  character: 

"The  truth  is  that  I  have  been  unable  to 
remember,  or,  by  inquiries  among  a  few  who 
knew  him  best,  learn  or  be  reminded  of  many 
incidents- which  stand  out  as  especially  indica- 
tive of  his  character.  It  was  the  inherent  force 
of  Christian  character  uniformly  present  in  all 
that  he  did  which  gave  him  power,  rather  than 
particular  acts  of  a  striking  nature.  He  was 
also  such  a  well-rounded  man,  courageous  to 
the  sufi'ering  of  a  martyr's  death,  yet  sweet  and 
tender  almost  as  a  woman ;  strong  to  the  strong, 
his  presence  a  cheer;  a  hard   and   consistent 


-11 


A   PRINCETON    MART\Tl        197 


worker,  yet  welcoming  healthy  pleasures;  so 
well-rounded,  in  fact,  and  evenly  balanced,  that 
no  qualities  or  powers  were  abnormally  devel- 
oped, so  that  we  can  seize  on  any  and  say  these 
above  others  differentiated  him  from  other  men. 
Both  his  character  and  his  life  stood  out  rather, 
each  as  an  harmonious  whole,  grand  in  its  sim- 
plicity. Of  the  component  parts  blended  into 
the  symmetry  of  the  whole  man,  several  may, 
however,  be  especially  mentioned.  First,  his 
sympathy.  It  was  broad  and  catholic  toward 
all  men.  That  God  had  breathed  His  spirit  into 
men  entitled  all  of  them  to  sympathy,  help,  and 
love.  And  so  in  daily  life,  and  in  the  doings 
of  young  and  old,  in  their  customs,  labors, 
pleasures,  friendships,  and  relationships,  all 
that  was  good,  clean,  manly  or  womanly,  and 
healthy,  found  in  Hodge  a  responsive  chord, 
which  caused  his  life  to  vibrate  in  harmony  with 
the  lives  round  him.  It  is  one  of  the  great 
reasons  for  the  force  of  his  life  and  character 
that  he  always  attracted  others  by  his  sym- 
pathy, and  repelled  none  by  unfeeling  con- 
demnation, cold,  self-proud  righteousness,  au- 
sterity, or  a  '  holier-than-thou  '  attitude.     The 


'a  I 


i  * 


'  1 

1  i 


I' 

ll 

I'  I 


li 


s 


M^ti:^-Jigi8^'- 


,/i5;^lfc.v;:^ 


.  •-■        ; 


•)r_  mi-:-^i^.l^Aik-^:BL.  ■ 


V 

s 


';t 


I 

'   if 


1  IM' 


198    CORTLANDT    Van   R.    HODGE 

result  was  that  in  college  even  those  who  led  a 
very  different  life  from  his  respected  his  char- 
acter and  were  warmly  friendly  to  him  person- 
ally. This  was  markedly  demonstrated  by  the 
letters  of  appreciation  of  Hodge,  and  contribu- 
tions to  the  memorial  tablet,  sent  at  that  time 
by  men  of  all  kinds  in  the  class. 

"  Did  anyone  in  any  way  entitled  to  be  called 
his  neighbor,  or  a  friend,  suffer  by  way  of  be- 
reavement, misfortune,  or  sickness,  or  physi- 
cal hurt,  his  sympathy  was  extended  so  genu- 
inely, because  it  was  genuine,  as  to  be  an  honest 
comfort  to  the  comforted,  a  sustaining  hand 
restoring  self-sustaining  strength.  As  an  in- 
stance of  the  latter,  there  occurred,  upon  one 
occasion  when  a  scrub  baseball  team  of  his  class 
on  which  he  played  was  pla3'ing  a  challenge 
game  with  the  '  Prep.  School '  team,  a  fight 
between  two  bo3's  about  ten  or  eleven  years  of 
age.  As  they  were  not  fighting  over  any  prin- 
ciple, those  ncai-est,  of  whom  Hodge  was  one, 
\.-ent  and  separated  them.  That  sufficed  for  all 
the  rest  of  us ;  but  Hodge  saw  that  one  of  them, 
smaller  than  the  other,  had  been  hurt  somewhat, 
his  nose  bleeding  and  tears  flowing.    So  he  took 


'^f^^Wi^  ■  ^.^-yy^' .'y^.  ^'^r^*9^im^':!^->^^r?^7*r^--  ■.•*^:^ 


A    PRIXCETOX    MAUTVll 


VY.) 


the  youngster  undor  his  wing,  used  his  own 
liandkerchicf  to  dry  the  boy's  face  of  both  blood 
and  tears,  and  in  a  few  minutes  and  with  a  few 
kindly  but  manly  words  liad  the  boy  restored 
to  peace  of  mind.  It  was  only  a  matter  of  a  few 
minutes,  and  wc  then  went  on  with  the  game, 
but  its  significance  lay  in  the  fact  tliat,  while 
the  others  only  stopped  the  fight,  he  sympa- 
thized with  and  cheered  up  the  boy  who  was 
hurt. 

"  Children  knew  at  once  that  he  was  their 
friend.  They  seldom  showed  that  hesitancy 
which  so  often  acts  as  a  barrier  to  an  older 
person ;  but  '  made  friends  '  with  him  at  once. 
He  was  very  tactful  in  getting  them  interested 
in  stories,  and  I  can  remember  his  telling  Uncle 
llcmus's  Bre'r  Rabbit  stories  to  children  with 
great  effect. 

"  Second,  may  be  mentioned  his  love  of  good. 
I'liis  exercised  a  guiding  influence  on  his  life  as 
strong,  perhaps,  as  anything  else.  Love  of 
good,  I  mean,  as  distinct  from  condemnation  of 
evil.  It  seems  to  me  that  while  evil  nmst  be 
overthrown,  yet  the  upbuilding  of  good  is  the 
most  constructive  work.     I  do  not  think  it  was 


*  ™ 
I. 

K 

ill 


•<f  I 


^^i^^-^^'^x^r  •' 


I 


IK 


h 


!        fi 


i( 


(i    ' 


ii; 


200     CORTLANDT    Van    R.    HODGE 

so  mucli  a  workcd-out  tlioory  or  belief  in  tliis 
us  a  natural  love  for  the  good  which  turned 
Hodge  in  this  direction.  But  certain  it  is  that 
he  sought  for  Hie  good  in  others,  buildcd  upon 
good,  and  his  whole  influence  was  constructive. 
This  was  doubtless  another  reason  why  he  was 
able  to  influence  men  without  alienating  them. 
This  chai'acteristic  caused  him  to  be  n.orc  espe- 
cially identified  witli  movements  or  organizations 
promoting  active  good.  Thus  in  college  he  was 
strongly  in  support  of  the  introduction  of  the 
honor  s^-stcm  in  cxanu'nations.  Tiiis  fortunate 
result  was  accomplished  in  our  senior  year. 
And,  though  it  was  the  result  of  a  general  agi- 
tation of  the  subject  rather  than  individual 
action,  yet  without  the  backing  of  strong  men 
such  as  Hodge,  who  were  known  to  stand  for 
manliness  and  right  without  finicalness  or  girl- 
ishness,  it  must  liave  failed.  Such  men  are 
towers  of  strength  to  such  a  movement,  and 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Hodge's  advocacy 
of  the  honor  s^-stem  aided  greatly  in  its  intro- 
duction ;  still  less  doubt  that  the  sure  knowledge 
that  he  and  others  would  not  endure  the  com- 
pany of  men  who  violated  their  honor  had  much 


i  I 

I: 


A    PRINCETON    ^lAllTYR 


201 


to  do  with  cstaljllshlng  it  and  making;  it  a  prac- 
tical success.  He  was  a  man  in  whose  sight  one 
did  not  like  to  do  wrong. 

"  His  modesty  also  deserves  especial  men- 
tion. I  would  not  do  him  the  injustice  of  say- 
ing that  he  was  not  grateful  for  appreciation, 
but  extended  praise  was  not  to  his  liking.  If 
he  did  admirable  things,  he  did  them  genuinely 
for  :hemselves,  because  they  were  woi'th  doing, 
not  for  the  applause  they  might  bring. 

'*  This  leads  me  to  consider  the  element  of 
genuineness  in  his  nature.  He  acted  true  to 
himself.  He  did  not  try  to  act  oth"r  people's 
feeling  or  tastes  or  character ;  nor  did  he  act 
for  opinions,  knowing  that  if  his  acts  were  right, 
opinions  would  take  care  of  themselves.  The 
consequence  was  that  you  felt  the  force  of 
genuineness  in  his  presence.  It  did  not  simply 
flow  from  his  words,  or  merely  follow  from  his 
acts ;  It  was  felt. 

"  There  was  a  similar  strength  lying  back  of 
his  gentleness  which  also  was  felt  rather  than 
seen.  Gentleness  was  notabh-  characteristic  of 
him,  but  you  knew  it  was  the  gentleness  of 
power  controlled.     He  could  strike,  but  he  did 


fl 

j 


\ 


'■W& 


■l^fgl^^ 


?{"»: 


■  i},! 

,1 

III 


I      { 


'i 


I 


202     CORTLANDT   Vax    R.    HODGE 

not  need  to.  He  exercised  more  control  by  the 
strength  of  his  gontkncss  than  do  the  rough 
by  force.  A  healthy  temperament  added  to  the 
evenness  of  his  development  above  referred  to. 
Essentlall}'  of  a  serious  nature,  lie  3'et  had  a 
briglitness  and  cheer  of  disposition,  a  love  for 
proper  recreation,  which  kept  him  from  becom- 
ing saddened  in  his  own  heart  or  tiresome  to 
others. 

"  He  could  sec  the  humor  of  things,  and 
keep  in  touch  and  harmony  with  humanity,  its 
joys  and  pleasures  as  well  as  its  sorrows.  He 
v/as  very  fond  of  baseball,  and  played  a  great 
deal,  usually  covering  first  base,  where  he  did 
consistent  good  work.  In  football  season  he 
also  played  in  scrub  games,  but  not  so  fre- 
quently as  in  baseball.  Being  of  good  size  and 
strength,  he  generally  played  in  the  line; 
usually  at  tackle.  He  also  played  a  good  game 
of  tennis,  swam,  and  skated  as  well  as,  or  better 
than,  the  average  of  us.  When  he  went  into 
games,  he  played  to  win,  but  to  win  fairly. 

"He  may  have  had  to  struggle  against  evil 
tendencies  in  his  earlier  days,  but  lie  succeeded 
in  so  subordinating  them  that  it  seemed  to  have 


A    PRINCETON    MARTYR 

become  the  natural  expression  of  himself  to  be 
a  Christian  man." 

From  his  boyhood  he  had  been  a  Christian 
worker.  Missionary  work  witii  him  was  no 
romantic  dream  or  purpose  of  future  service. 
There  are  those  who  compound  with  conscience 
for  present  neglect  of  common  duty  by  splen- 
did purpose  of  performance  of  future  uncom- 
mon duty.  But,  as  none  but  common  duties 
ever  come  to  us,  every  uncommon  duty  becom- 
ing common  when  it  appears,  the  service  of  the 
procrastinator  is  a?ways  a  prospective  service. 
There  was  none  of  this  in  Rensselaer  Hodge. 
He  lived  for  God  and  the  good  of  men  in  his 
present  time — the  only  time  that  he  had. 

"  As  to  my  experience  in  active  Christian 
service,"  he  told  the  Board,  "  it  is  as  follows : 
As  soon  as  I  was  old  enough  to  have  a  class  in 
Sunday  school,  I  started  to  teach  in  our  Mis- 
sion School  in  East  Burlington,  New  Jersey.  I 
taught  here  until  I  left  for  college  in  Princeton, 
New  Jersey.  Here  I  taught,  I  believe  for  two 
years,  in  a  mission  school  at  Quecnstown,  and 
then  for  two  years  attended  a  Bible  class  in  the 


203 

f  to  be                                           ! 

u 


It 


t|  i 


1      1^ 

I        i! 


204    CORTLANDT   Van    R.    HODGE 

First  Church  Sunda^  school.  During  a  re- 
vival of  religious  interest  in  college  during  my 
senior  year  (I  think  it  was),  I  tried  to  take  an 
active  part  in  the  work.  During  my  course  of 
study  at  the  medical  school  I  taught  and  super- 
intended a  mission  school  among  the  Italians 
and  Syrians  round  Ninth  and  Carpenter  streets 
for  some  time,  and  then  taught  in  the  Wood- 
land Sunday  school  until  I  was  obliged  to  give 
this  up  on  account  of  my  duties  here  at  the 
hospital." 

His  hospital  work  was  true  Christian  work. 

"  In  the  Presbyterian  Hospital,"  says  his 
father,  "  he  had  to  be  brought  into  relation  with 
all  its  many  interests,  the  patients  in  the  wards, 
the  patients  in  the  private  rooms,  the  nurses, 
those  on  probation,  and  those  accepted,  fellow- 
residents,  and  the  visiting  physician:;  and  sur- 
geons, the  men  in  the  office,  the  chaplain,  and 
others  interested  in  the  religious  services,  and 
the  ladies  of  the  Hospital  Aid  Society.  In  all 
these  relations  he  seems  to  have  acted  with  rare 
discretion,  and  I  have  reason  to  know  that  he 
was  of  substantial  help  in  spiritual  matters  to 


{ 

t', 


A   PRINCETON    MARTYR 


205 


those  who  came  under  his  influence.  He  had 
great  syuiputhy  wllli  the  nurses  and  did  not  like 
to  sec  them  overburdened,  givi  i^  personal  at- 
tention to  measures  for  their  relief.  Wronf?- 
doin^  excited  his  indignation,  but  he  had 
patient  regard  for  those  who  went  astray,  and 
he  gave  thought  and  care  to  the  task  of  lead- 
ing back  to  the  right  way.'* 


I, 

I  I 

i 

! 


He  and  Miss  Sinclair,  who  was  a  graduate  of 
Bryn  Mawr,  were  appointed  as  missionaries  In 
January,  1899,  were  married  on  February  four- 
teenth, and  sailed  for  China  in  April.  No  one 
could  well  enter  upon  the  work  better  prepared. 

Dr.  and  Mrs.  Hodge  went  at  once  to  their 
station  at  Paotingfu,  China,  where  he  was  to 
have  during  his  novitiate  the  invaluahle  help  of 
the  advice  and  association  of  Br.  George  Yard- 
ley  Taylor,  a  gr?  duatc  of  Princeton  In  the  class 
of  1882,  and  a  member  of  the  Burlington 
church  under  the  pastorate  of  Rensselaer's 
father.  The  first  work,  of  course,  was  the  lan- 
guage. But  in  November  Dr.  Hodge  was  far 
enough  along  to  go  off  on  a  long  trip  south- 
ward   with  Mr.  Lowrie  and  Mr.  Killie,  for  the 


A  I 


J 


I? 


I!!^*t|^ 


}'k 


mm    COllTLANDT   Van    R.    HODGE 

purpose  of  selecting  a  site  for  a  new  mission 
station,  which  was  only  made  possible  by  the  re- 
cstablishment  of  order  in  China  after  the  Boxer 
troubles,  on  one  hanti,  and,  on  the  other,  the  gen- 
erosity of  the  Fifth  Avenue  Presbyterian  Church 
in  New  York,  which  had  undertaken  as  an  extra 
contribution  to  provide  the  entire  expense  of  the 
new  station.  Dr.  Hodge  was  not  to  sec  it  occu- 
pied. He  had,  however,  the  great  satisfaction 
of  learning  of  his  appointment  as  physician  in 
charo-e  of  the  medical  work  of  the  Mission  in  t., 
city  of  Peking.  Everything  hitherto  had  been 
but  preparatory  to  this.  He  had  now  reached  the 
goal  to  attain  which  so  many  years  of  toil  and 
training  had  been  given.  The  last  letter  re- 
ceived from  his  hands  began :  "  Dear  father, 
such  wonderful  news!"  Then  he  goes  on  to 
tell  of  the  appointment,  and  of  his  prompt  visit 
to  Peking  with  Mrs.  Hodge  to  make  arrange- 
ments to  assume  the  duties  of  his  post.  Imme- 
diately after  their  return  to  Paotingfu,  in  the 
spring  of  1900,  the  tempest  of  the  Boxer  up- 
rising broke  over  China,  and  the  little  company 
at  that  station  perished  in  the  storm.  On  Sat- 
urday   afternoon,   June   thirtieth,   the   Boxers 


A    PHINCKTOX    MAU'lYR 


n 


ilJla!- 


"S^Z  ,'1 


II.    1^    , 

m 


mtide  tlio  attack  on  tlic  Presbyterian  coinponnii. 
Dr.  and  Mrs.  Ilod^o  uiid  Dr.  Taylor  had  p)ii. 
to  the  home  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sniicox,  and  there, 
with  the  three  little  Simcox  children,  all  passed 
on  together  oat  of  f^reat  trihul.iHi  '"to  the 
presence  of  the  Saviour  whom  the\ 
teringly  served. 

Just  two  years  later  the    lasses 
189B  presented  to  Princeton  Uiiiver 
commemorative  of  Dr.  Taylor  and   . 
and  it  was  sot  in  the  wall  of  ManjSi    \  d  C! 
In  presen*'     "  the  tablet  in  behalf  <>'*'  the    ' 
1893,  Mr.  h  told  of  a  rein;,    k  of   >\ 

child,  who,  when  its  mother  was     xpl.iiin 
story  of  Jesus  one  day,  and  t^       ig  1    « 
and    kind    and    helpful    He    \  as,    ex  ' 
"  Mother,  I  know  what  Jesus  was  like      .  - 

like  Van  Rensselaer!"  And  in  accrptiu.  e 
tablet  in  behalf  of  the  university,  Pi  ident 
Patton  replied: 


"  One  by  one,  by  window  and  by  mural  tablet, 
we  arc  adding  to  those  visible  memorials  of  the 
services  of  the  sons  of  Princeton  University 
which  enrich,  and  give  enhanced  solemnity  to, 


I!     <i 


■5   i 
t:   : 


Ltil'ittkJHlitt^li^iiSLV 


ft  i 


|i      8 


«08    CORTLANDT    Van    U.    HODGE 

this  house  of  worship.  And  I  can  say,  in  all 
the  St  .Munity  tluit  becomes  the  moment,  that 
no  names  arc  more  worthy  than  those  wliieh 
are  added  this  morning  to  *he  increasing  roll 
of  Princeton's  Christian  martyrs.  These  men 
represent  what  we  hope  will  ever  be  the  spirit 
of  the  teaching  of  Princeton  T'niversity.  They 
were  men,  Christian  men,  hesitating  at  no  step 
which  pointed  to  d'lty. 

"  1  accept,  in  th  name  of  the  Trustees,  this 
tablet  in  grateful  appreciation  of  their  lives  and 
services,  with  the  hope  tluit  coming  generations 
of  undergraduates  may  find  in  it  an  inspiration 
to  go  out  likewise  in  the  service  of  their  Lord." 


But  the  inspiration  of  such  a  life  is  not  the 
possession  of  any  one  university.  It  belongs 
to  every  young  man.  It  calls  to  every  boy. 
Who  can  refuse  to  rise  up  and  try  to  live  for 
himself  such  a  glorious  life? 


XV 


IS^V.\C   PARKER   COALE 


I 


A     WINNER    OF    HIS    OWN     VICTORY 


J 


SOME  time  ago  I  received  from  a  fjentle- 
man  in  a  !umber  town  in  Mithignn,  who 
was  grcntly  interested  in  work  for  young 
men,  n  letter  in  which  he  expressed  his  feelinf; 
that  the  life  of  Hugh  Beaver,  while  encounig- 
ing  to  boys  of  situjitions  in  life  like  his,  was 
yet  not  as  great  an  encouragement  to  manj' 
young  men  as  the  story  of  some  young  boy  who 
had  to  fight  his  way  against  greater  difficulties 
and  who  had  shown  by  his  victory  over  want, 
that  others  could  achieve  success  in  spite  of  the 
absence  of  influence  and  of  what  a  poor  boy 
would  consider  wealth. 

The  boy  who  rises  to  self-sacrifice  out  of  a 
comfortable  home  and  who  achieves  a  character 
of  independence  and  self-reliance  even  if  gen- 
erously helped  during  his  ourly  years  by  his 


II 


t 


^^■■:^T-m 


'7^ 


i^jr^.  -^^^r^W^^^^-^;.^^.!^^ 


'i 


-i 


i:i 


I  ' 


210    ISAAC  PARKER  COALE 

family  wins  his  victory.  Thousands  of  men, 
whose  boyhood  would  be  thus  described,  are 
doing  as  good  work  as  is  being  done  in  our 
land.  And  there  are  thousands  of  others  who 
have  from  early  years  by  economy  and  self- 
help,  but  with  such  assistance  from  earnest 
homes  as  could  be  given,  or  little  or  no  assist- 
ance at  all,  wrought  their  way  through  to  suc- 
cess, the  best  kind  of  success,  the  win.  ing  of 
places  of  high  regard  and  confidence  in  the 
community,  and  the  accomplishment  of  great 
and  unselfish  work  in  the  world. 

Isaac  Parker  Coale  was  a  representative  of 
this  large  class,  perhaps  the  largest  class  of 
educated  young  men  in  our  land.  On  one  side 
he  came  of  Scotch  and  Irish  stock,  well-to-do, 
devout  gentry,  and  on  the  other  of  Virginian 
blood.  He  was  the  oldest  of  ten  children,  and 
was  born  November  twenty-first,  18G8,  in  Bal- 
timore, where  his  father  was  pastor  of  one  of 
the  Presbyterian  churches.  Two  years  later 
the  family  moved  to  Arch  Spring,  Pennsyl- 
vania, which  was  Isaac's  home  until  after  he  left 
college.  The  Arch  Spring  Church  is  in  a  fertile 
valley  in  central  Pennsylvania,  where  in  a  whole- 


i 


tSK3fc?< 


WINNER    OF    HIS    OWN    VICTORY    211 

some,    religious,    farming    community,    Isaac 
spent  his  childhood.    At  the  age  of  thirteen  he 
went  to  the  Mountain  Seminary,  i  school  for 
girls  at  Birmingham,  Pennsylvania,  three  and 
one-half  miles  from  Arch  Spring,  where  provision 
was  made  for  a  few  smaller  boys.  Isaac  studied  in 
the  Seminary  for  three  years,  walking  most  of 
the  way  to  and  fro  each  day.    During  this  time 
he  united  with  the  home  church  at  the  age  of 
fifteen,  three  other  older  children  joining  with 
him.     '^here   was   no   great    transformation   in 
him.     There  was  need  of  none.     He  went  on 
to  be  the  same  open,  genuine,  clean-principled 
boy  he  had  always  been,  the  confidential  friend 
of   his   father,   having   nothing  to   hide   from 
anyone. 

In  1884-  he  went  to  Blair  Hall,  Blairstown, 
New  Jersey,  for  a  final  year  of  preparation  for 
college.  He  was  exceedingly  difl^dcnt.  He  had 
grown  up  in  the  country,  he  was  aware  of  his 
bright  red  hair,  contact  with  other  boys  and 
with  the  world  had  not  robbed  him  of  his  self- 
consciousness ;  he  had  taken  no  part  in  athletic 
exercises  giving  him  physical  carriage  and  ease, 
and  he  began  to  be  alive  to  all  this.     His  pro- 


n 


li  ^'i 


'I 

sit 


i  \ 


!l 


212 


ISAAC    PARKER    COALE 


tcction  at  Blair  Hall  was  his  air  of  excessive 
dignity.  In  spite  of  this,  he  had  the  respect  of 
everyone. 

During  the  Christmas  vacation  ten  or  twelve 
of  the  young  people  remained  at  the  school. 
Once,  as  they  sat  down  at  the  table  with 
gv  at  hilarity,  one  of  the  teachers  overheard 
Isaac,  who  was  one  of  the  youngest  pres- 
ent, say  quietly,  that  if  they  would  be  silent 
a  moment,  he  would  ask  the  blessing.  They 
hushed  instantly,  and  she  heard  his  voice  in 
prayer.  This  was  the  sort  of  thing  that  it  cost 
to  do,  but  the  boy  received  his  unconscious  re- 
ward in  firmer  character  and  greater  fearless- 
ness of  conviction.  There  was  no  priggish- 
ness  in  him,  however.  His  di'oU  sense  of  humor 
would  have  saved  him  from  that,  if  his  character 
had  not  been  destitute  of  it. 

In  the  fall  of  1885  he  entered  Princeton. 
The  qualities  which  had  led  him  to  bear  him- 
self with  a  rather  unnatural  dignity  at  school 
were  such  as  laid  a  freshman  open  to  a  good 
deal  of  chaffing  in  college,  and  Coale  had  to  en- 
dure a  great  deal  of  it  from  sophomores  and 
from  his  own  classmates.    He  was  nicknamed  at 


|! 


WINNER    OF    HIS    OWN    VICTORY    213 

once  and  it  was  a  favorite  form  of  guying  him 
to  pretend  to  confuse  him  and  another  man  in 
the  class  whose  hair  was  of  the  same  color  and 
to  call  each  by  the  other's  name.  Coalc  took  all 
this  in  admirable  spirit.  He  laughed  at  it  as 
long  as  it  did  not  go  too  far,  and  he  resented  it, 
with  a  quiet  but  wholly  effective  dignity,  when 
it  did.  In  due  time  he  won  out.  Men  soon 
found  the  man  in  him,  and  though  the  chaffing 
went  on  more  or  less,  it  was  thoroughly  good- 
natured,  the  result  of  increasing  affection  and 
of  Coale's  own  hearty  geniality.  By  the  end 
of  his  college  course  no  man  in  the  class  was 
more  respected  than  he.  The  discipline  of  col- 
lege life  had  been  just  what  he  needed  to  solidify 
his  character,  to  train  his  raw  abilities  into 
power,  to  make  of  him  a  firm,  fearless,  modest, 
self-understanding,  effective  man.  When  the 
class  of  1889  separated  at  the  end  of  its  course, 
Isaac  Coalc  went  out  with  every  man's  abso- 
lute confidence,  every  man's  high  respect,  every 
man's  hearty  love,  and  he  had  won  them  him- 
self. No  money,  no  fictitious  gifts  were  his 
aids.  The  influence  that  he  might  have  used, 
through    Ills    father's    friends,    he    studiously 


•\ 


I  u 


'  I 

I  *  i 


N 


'h     i 


) 

"1 


Ml- 

1; 


i;:! 


i 


21  i  ISAAC    PARKER    (  OALE 

avoided  touching.  He  had  achieved  a  great 
success.  He  had  done  it  by  character.  And 
whether  he  knew  it  or  not,  the  victory  he  had 
acliievcd  was  a  character,  a  character  of  solid 
and  flawless  righteousness,  of  strength  and  re- 
pose, of  kindly  charity  and  friendliness,  of  just 
and  fearless  fidelity. 

He  went  out  of  college,  not  quite  Iwenty-ono, 
to  make  his  own  way,  and  to  give  what  help  he 
could  at  home  to  his  younger  brothers  and  -is- 
ter  in  their  education.     For  about  two  months 
he  taught  in  the  Institution  for  the  Blind  in 
Philadelphia,  and  then  went  to  Lawrenceville, 
New  Jersey,  where  he  taught  for  two  years  in  the 
school   there;   then    to    Stamford,    Connecticut, 
where  for  two  years  more  he  taught  at  King's 
School.     ^Meanwhile  he  had  been  reading  Black- 
stone,  and  in  1893  he  went  to  New  York  city  to 
complete  the  study  of  law.     All  the  while  he  was 
feeling  the  sense  of  responsibility  for  helping  the 
younger  children  and  was  planning  with  them 
and  for  them  every  day.     His  good  sense  and 
growing  breadth  o"  judgment   revealed  them- 
selves constantly.     He  felt  that  he  had  mad»-  a 
mistake  in  his  own  college  course  in  not  mingling 


H 


WINNER    OF    HIS    OWN    VICTORY    ^15 

enough  in  the  college  life,  in  athletics,  and 
other  college  contests,  and  he  strove  to  get 
those  who  were  to  follow  to  enter  fully  into 
them.  He  saw  that  the  attrition  of  college  life 
had  done  a  great  deal  for  his  own  character, 
and  he  came  to  value  it  as  of  importance 
only  next  to  the  intellectual  work  set  to  be 
done. 

It  was  no  easy  course  he  was  following.  He 
was  hewing  his  own  way.  There  were  influential 
friends  in  New  York  on  whom  he  might  have 
called.  His  sturdy  sense  of  independence  led 
him  almost  to  avoid  them.  He  wanted  to  win 
his  own  battle.  He  asked  no  assistance,  save  the 
assistance  of  God,  which  he  was  asking  daily. 
And  that  assistance  he  had,  though  at  times 
he  felt  that  his  prospect  of  winning  was  not 
bright.  When  he  was  pursuing  his  law  studies 
in  New  Y'ork  in  189-t  he  wrote:  "The  world 
seems  all  upside  down  just  now."  Some  finan- 
cial losses.  Including  his  failure  to  collect  a  bill 
for  tutoring,  and  his  inability  to  get  rem  ler- 
atlve  work  while  he  was  studying  in  the  Law 
School  "  have  combined  "  he  wrote,  "  to  lay  me 
flat  and  almost  pinion  my  hands  besides.     I  am 


i| 


"r»/i>r-v./.'  'i4^f:t«*j*i(i 


I 


it 


n' 


1^. 


216    ISAAC  PARKER  COALE 

doing  my  best  now  to  struggle  free,  but  am 
likely  to  be  obliged  to  break  off  my  study  of  law 
and  go  again  to  the  country  as  a  teacher."  But 
he  held  on  and  conquered.  That  'vas  one  of  the 
secrets  he  had  learned — to  keep  his  struggles  to 
himself,  to  "  burn  his  own  smoke,"  as  Robert- 
son, of  Brighton,  said,  and  to  stick  to  a  right 
purpose  with  the  tenacity  of  steel.  He  went  on 
with  his  studies,  teaching  meanwhile  in  a 
private  school  in  New  York,  in  thorough  good 
nature.  Hard  though  his  struggle  was  it  never 
clouded  his  sense  of  humor  or  his  merriment 
under  the  stress  of  life. 

In  1895  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and  soon 
joined  the  firm  of  larker  &  Scudder.  How  well 
prepared  he  was  and  how  he  viewed  his  work  is 
indicated  in  the  letter  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Townsend 
Scudder,  whose  law  partner  he  subsequently 
became : 

"  I  desire  to  be  considered  by  you  in  connection 
with  the  position  in  your  office  as  per  to-day's 
Law  Journal. 

"I  am  a  graduate  of  the  New  York 
Law  School  and  have  been  admitted  to 
practice     in     the     first     department     nearly 


I' 


WINNER    OF    HIS    OWN    VICTORY    217 


two    years.      Not     all     this     time     has     been 
spent    in    practice,    for    I    continued    teach- 
ing and  pursuing  a  graduate  course  at  the  law 
school  after  my  admission  to  the  bar,  and  have 
also  devoted  several  months  to  editorial  work  on 
a   digest     and   a    text-book ;    I   have,   however, 
become   acquainted   with   a    large  part  of  the 
routine  of  office  work  through  my  clerkship  in  the 
offices  of  Reeves,  Todd  &  Swain,  55  Liberty 
Street,  before  admission  to  the  bar,  and  subse- 
quently In  the  offices  of  Cardozo  &  Nathan,  120 
Broadway,  and  Mr.  Robert    C.    Taylor,    253 
Broadway.     I  take  pleasure  in  referring  to  any 
of  the  members  of  the  firms  above  mentioned; 
also  to  Professor  Geo.  Chase,  120  Broadway,  of 
the  New  York  Law  School ;  Mr.  A.  R.  Gulick, 
120  Broadway;   and  ^Ir.  Thos.  G.  Ritch,   18 
Wall  Street.     After  spending  last  winter  in  the 
offices  of  Messrs.  Cardozo  &  Nathan  and  Mr.  R. 
C.  Taylor,  I  accepted  an  offer  from  ^Ir.  Wm. 
Draper  Lewis,  Dean  elect  of  the  University  of 
Pennsylvaria  Law  School,  to  work  on  a  digest 
of  Pennsylvania  decisions,  which  he  was  engaged 
in  preparing.     I  spent  a  large  part  of  the  sum- 
mer on    this   work    in    Philadelphia,   and    ?ince 


218 


ISAAC    PAUKi:U    COALE 


1  fs 


; 


I!  t; 


1% 
i 


comin<;  to  New  York  again,  I  have  been  workin;j; 
for  him  on  an  edition  of  IJkckstonc  which  is  to 
be  issued  shortly.  I  mention  my  work  on  these 
books,  because  it  is  in  hnc  with  the  work  called 
for  iti  your  advertisement.  I  can  procure  a  let- 
ter from  Mr.  Lewis  as  to  my  efficiency  in  this 
work,  but  would  prefer  to  refer  you  to  him 
directly.  His  address  is  William  Draper  Lewis, 
Drcxcl  Building,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

"  I  am  now  twenty-seven  years  of  age.  I  was 
graduated  with  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts 
from  Princeton,  in  1889,  before  I  was  twenty- 
one  years  of  age.  After  four  years'  experience 
in  teaching  at  the  Lawrencevillc  School  and  at 
Mr.  King's  School  for  Boys,  Stamford,  Con- 
necticut, I  came  to  New  York  in  1893  and 
entered  the  Senior  Class  of  the  New  York  Law 

School. 

« I  wish  now  to  connect  myself  with  an  office 
and  engage  in  practice  unintern  'itedly.  ]My 
residence  is  357  Lenox  Avenue,  and  my  business 
address  is  care  Gulick,  Kerr  &  Marsh,  120 
Broadway.  I  spend  most  of  my  time  in  the 
Equitable  Library,  where  I  am  bringing  to  a 
close  my  work  on  Blackstone. 


Hii 


WINNER    OF    HIS    OWN    VICTORY    219 

"  I  trust  that  I  may  liavi'  tlic  favor  of  an  early 
communication  from  you,  and  should  he  pleased 
to  call  at  your  office,  if  you  request. 

"  Very  respectfully  yours, 
"(Signed)  Isaac  V.  Coale." 

Mr.  Scuddcr  was  greatly  pleased  with  this  let- 
ter.    Coale   soon   became   managing   clerk    and 
when  Mr.  Scudder  was  elected  to  Congress  in 
1899  Isaac  was  taken  into  partnership  with  him 
under  the  firm  name  of  Scudder  &  Coale.     The 
qualities  of  absolute  rectitude,  of  genial  good- 
will, of  sound  sense,  of  indefatigable  industry,  of 
honesty  as  reliable  as  the  sun,  whose  seeds  had 
been  sown  in  his  home  and  nourished  by  all  the 
stiff  discipline  of  his  life,  fitted  Isaac  Coale  for 
any  trust  and  won  him  the  confidence  of  all  who 
came  to  know  him.     He  had  started  in  New  York 
alone  and  he  was  winning  his  way  steadily  in  the 
knowledge  and  acquaintance  which  arc  indispen- 
sable in  New  York  and  in  the  respect  and  admir- 
ation and  trust  of  all  who  met  his  simple,  strong, 

solid  nature. 

He  took  an  active  part  in  Christian  work  in 
the  Rutgers  Riverside  Tresbyterian  Church,  of 


_^..,rV,   4"  '^ 


.1 


[il 
I 


:i 


I' 


m 


220 


ISAAC    PARKER   COALE 


which  he  was  a  mombcr.  He  had  always  l)ccn 
faithful  in  his  chu»-ch  relationships.  Of  a 
Washington's  Birthday  at  Stamford,  he  writes: 
"  I  spent  the  day  quietly  here,  working  a  little 
and  reading  and  going,  like  a  good  Presby- 
terian, to  prayer-meeting  in  the  evening."  At 
Rutgers  Church  he  was  active  in  the  work  of 
the  Christian  Endeavor  Society,  superintendent 
of  the  Mission  Sunday  school,  and  faithful  and 
dependable  in  all  the  work  of  the  church.  Every- 
one felt  what  one  described  as  "  the  strength 
and  reality  of  his  Christian  character."  There 
was  no  gush  or  effusion  about  him,  but,  en  the 
other  hand,  there  was  no  concealment,  no  false 
reticence.  He  had  been  with  Christ,  one  writes, 
and  no  one  could  deal  with  him  and  not  discover 
it.  A  city  missionary  who  is  also  a  worker  in 
the  Mission  Sunday  school  of  the  church  said 
that  the  last  time  she  saw  him  he  was  inquiring 
for  one  of  the  boys  of  the  school.  On  learning 
that  he  could  not  go  to  the  country  for  want  of 
shoes,  he  had  handed  her  the  money  to  buy  them. 
That  last  act,  she  said,  was  characteristic  of 
his  whole  life  as  she  had  known  him.  He  was 
full  of  quiet  good  works.    "  I  started  thirty-six 


m 

i! 


\\ 


WINNER   OF    HIS    OWN    VICTORY    221 

youngsters  off  this  morning  for  a  two  weeks* 
vacation  among  the  Berkshire  Hills,"  he  writes 
in  midsummer  from  the  city,  where  he  was  hard 
at  work. 

His  range  of  interest  reached  beyond  his  pro- 
fession and  his  church.  He  was  a  member  of 
the  Seventh  Regiment,  a  company  of  which 
camo  to  his  funeral,  some  of  the  members  at 
great  inconvenience,  to  show  their  respect  for 
him.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Discipline  Cotn- 
mittee  of  his  company  and  even  the  delinquents 
admired  him  for  his  justice,  several  of  the  men 
speaking  of  his  fairness  and  his  sound 
judgment. 

He  was  counsel  for  the  Christadora  House,  a 
Christian  settlement  on  the  East  Side,  to  which 
he  gave  his  services  and  a  great  deal  of  time  as 
a  labor  of  disinterested  love.  The  Christian 
Endeavor  Society  of  Rutgers  Riverside  Church 
presented  a  tall  mahogany  clock  to  the  house  in 
memory  of  one  who  had  been  as  a  quiet  rock 
of  strength  to  both.  He  was  a  valued  member 
also  of  the  Pennsylvania  Society. 

In  many  ways,  he  was  fitting  into  the  intri- 
cate life  of  the  great  city.     Little  by  little,  his 


.|i' 


1^ 


it  i» 

1 » . 


t>t)o 


ISAAC    PAUKi:il    ("OALi: 


infliinu'c  wjis  ^rowiiin^  and  he,  liimst'lf,  wiis 
^rowiti^  into  u  lar/rcr,  ii  more-  lulaptivc,  ti  more 
powerful  limn.  He  was  the  type  of  inun  need'd 
for  tlic  eitv's  life.  All  that  entered  into  its 
development  wa>  coming  to  he  of  interest  to  liini 
as  his  position  hieame  assured,  and  he  saw  his 
opjmrtunities  enlarging.  He  took  nn  active 
part  in  politics.  He  spoke  a  numhcr  of 
times  in  the  Congressional  district  wlierc  the 
Hon.  William  H.  Douglas  was  elected  to  Con- 
gress, and  Mr.  Douglas  writes,  "  He  was  looked 
upon  hy  all  of  us  as  a  man  of  strong  character, 
uprightness,  and  integrity." 

Hut  idl  hopes  of  the  future  were  vain — vain 
for  this  present  world.  The  clean,  unselfish 
life  ended  in  the  Treshyterian  Hospital,  New 
York  city,  on  August  twenty-third,  1901,  an 
attack  of  peritonitis  following  appendicitis,  and 
the  best  medical  and  surgical  effort  proving 
unavailing. 

The  newspaper  published  at  Mr.  Scudder's 
summer  home,  where  Coale  had  become  well 
known,  spoke  of  him  as 

"  A  man  of  sterling  qualities,  of  true  worth. 


:»'     i 


WINNEll    OF    HIS    OWN    VKTOllY    ^m 

of  h«)nost  coura^o  .  .  .  considoriito  of  otlurs, 
rourtt'OMs,  rcfiiK'd,  with  lii^ii  nlcals.  Hi-  had 
a  spkiuliil  future  hcfon*  liiui.  His  loyalty 
uiul  7.cn\  wiiT  uinisual.  A  bitter  friend  was 
hard  to  find.  lie  made  friei.ds  wherever  he  went, 
uiid  was  highly  regarded  and  respected  by  all 
who  met  him.  One  could  truly  say,  *  His  word 
WHS  as  good  as  any  bond.'  It  was  never  broken. 
Wliat  he  said  he  would  do,  he  did.  It  was  his 
nature,  as  it  was  the  rule  of  the  office  to  which 
he  belonged." 

Mr.  Scudder  himself  writes  of  him: 

"  He  never  had  come  to  him  any  cases  that  can 
be  singled  out  as  notable.  He  did  with  faithful- 
ness, zeal,  and  courage  the  drudgery  of  office 
work  that  all  young  lawyers  have  to  do ;  he  did 
it  with  an  attention  to  detail  which  showed  the 
control  he  had  over  himself.  He  made  for  him- 
self no  great  name,  because  the  opportunity 
was  lacking,  any  more  than  I  have  or  five  thou- 
sand other  lawyers  in  New  York  have.  His 
work  was  nearly  entirely  office  work.  He  argued 
for  me  two  or  three  cases  and  always  acquitted 
himself  with  credit  by  reason  of  the  t'-orough- 


1 

h 

\mJt 


; 


I; 


i' 


I 


224.         ISAAC    PARKER    COALE 

ness  of  his  pr.  .  -lation.  He  always  believed 
what  he  saic  and  Ms  earnestness  won  him  the 
attention  of  >  ic  :ourts.  He  had  the  legal  mind 
and  the  application.  Had  he  lived,  he  un- 
doubtedly would  have  won  for  himself  a  high 
place  at  the  bar.  He  died  before  he  reaped  any 
of  the  fruits  of  his  early  struggles." 


Yet   he   won   his    reward,   the   reward   of   a 
blameless    soul    and    a    stainless    character.     I 
knew  him  for  nearl}    twenty  years  and  never 
heard    one    word    of    discredit    or    reproach 
regarding  him.     He  left  his  name  absolutely 
untarnished.    He  left  it  glorified  with  the  beauty 
of  a  true  and  worthy  life.    There  was  no  mean- 
ness in  him  and  none  came  out  of  him.     His 
kindly,  open  face  represented  truly  the  large, 
simple  nature  within,  and    the    city    and    the 
Church  lost  a  good,  a  true,  and  a  useful  man, 
and  his  friends    a  heart  of  gold,  when  Isaac 
Coale's  short  life  came  to  a  close.     Why  should 
not  every  young  man  aspire  to  be  as  honorable, 
as  just,  as  faithful,  as  good  a  man.f" 


CONCLUSION 


WHEN  the  principles  of  the  highest 
and  most  devoted  type  of  life  arc  set 
before  men,  some  reply  at  once: 
"  Yes,  those  are  great  principles,  but  they  arc 
impracticable.  No  young  man  can  live  on  that 
plane."  To  this  objection  these  lives  which 
have  been  considered  here  are  the  sufficient 
answer. 

Or  others  say,  "Are  not  such  ideals  likely 
to  discourage  young  men?  We  arc  only  human 
and  you  must  not  demand  too  much.  If  you 
do,  you  will  get  nothing.  It  is  better  to  allow 
some  innocent  Indulgences  an'  t  be  rigid  only 
on  the  great  moral  Issues."  at  it  is  the  little 
heroisms  and  self-denials  which  prepare  men 
for  the  great  ones.  Professor  James  makes  an 
appeal  to  us  on  psychological  grounds  to  be 
stiff  in  the  small  things,  if  we  would  be  fitted 
to  behave  like  men  in  greater  things:  "Keep 
the  faculty  of  effort  alive  in  you  by  a  little 

223 


226  CONCLUSION 

gratuitous  exercise  every  day.  That  is,  he 
systematically  ascetic  or  heroic  in  little  unneces- 
sary points,  do  every  day  or  two  something  for 
no  other  reason  than  that  you  would  rather 
not  do  it,  so  that  when  the  hour  of  dire  need 
draws  nigh,  it  may  find  you  not  unnerved  and 
untrained  to  stand  the  test.  Asceticism  of  this 
sort  is  like  the  insurance  which  a  man  pays  on 
his  house  and  goods.  The  tax  does  him  no  good 
at  the  time,  and  possibly  may  never  bring  him 
a  return.  But  if  the  fire  does  come,  his  having 
paid  it  will  be  his  salvation  from  ruin.  So  with 
the  man  who  has  daily  inured  himself  to  habits 
of  concentrated  attention,  energetic  volition, 
and  self-denial  in  unnecessary  things.  He  will 
stand  like  a  tower  when  everything  rocks 
around  him  and  when  his  softer  fellow-mortals 
are  winnowed  like  chaff  in  the  blasL" 

And  I  ask  whether  such  young  men  as  these 
we  have  been  considering  really  discourage  us. 
They  were  very  flesh  and  blood.  They  had  to 
fight  for  what  they  were.  If  they  won>  we 
too  may  win. 

If  men   do   not   like   the    rigidity   of   right 


Uti 


COXCLUSION 


007 


principle,  it  cannot  he  luipcd.  It  would  be 
falsehood  and  treason  to  tell  them  that  it  doesn't 
matter,  that  if  the}-  don't  like  the  stiff  denands 
of  the  hioher  life,  they  arc  free  to  let  down  Iho 
bars.  They  can  of  course  do  this  if  they  wish, 
and  the  majority  follow  this  course.  But  the^ 
pay  for  it,  and  some  day  they  will  realiz*;  the 
terrible  price  that  they  paid — a  price  regis- 
tered in  character  and  in  capacity  for  char- 
acter forever. 

But  someone  will  say,  "  These  men  were 
devotees."  Some  of  them  were  men  of  deep 
relifrious  natures,  but  the  others  had  no  special 
temperamental  piety.  Tluy  were  all  healthy, 
human  iricn,  men  of  play  and  joy,  popular  with 
all  sorts  of  people,  leaders  wherever  they  were, 
capable,  effective  men  who  came  to  ujastery  by 
the  right  road,  the  road  open  to  all. 

"  Soul,  rule  thyself;  on  passion,  deed,  desire 
L;ij   thou  the  law  of  tliy  deliberate  will. 
Stand  at  thy  chosen  ]iost,  Taitli's  sentinel. 
Learn  to  endure.    Iliine  the  reward 
Of  tho.e  mIio  niai^c  livinjr  Light  their  Lord. 
Clothed  with  celestial  steel  these  stand  secure, 
Masters,  not  slaves." 


u 


h^ 


N  :  i's  i 


228  CONCLUSION 

The  highest  life  represents  more,  not  less, 
life  than  the  lower  life.  Wc  speak  of  giving 
up  habits  and  indulgences,  but  this  is  a  mislead- 
ing form  of  speech.  The  pauper  gives  up  his 
rags  when  he  is  clad.  The  lame  man  gives  up 
his  crutches  when  he  is  healed.  But  these  are 
not  sacrifices.  The  Christian  man  throws  away 
nil  that  hampers  his  freedom  as  the  slave  sur- 
renders his  chains  when  he  steps  foi-th  Into  lib- 
erty. Christ's  call  is  to  the  free,  the  abundant, 
the  unencumbered  life. 

But  character  will  take  care  of  itself  if  men 
will  serve.  And  the  summons  which  comes  down 
to  us  from  the  height  where  these  men  lived  and 
worked  is  the  sunnnons  of  the  Saviour  who 
saved  others  but  had  no  care  to  save  Himself. 
Why  need  He?  Having  done  his  duty^  Ke 
could  securely  trust  Himself  to  His  Father,  the 
God  of  all  duty-doers.  He  will  care  last  for 
the  men  who  care  first  for  His  will.  It  was 
in  this  spirit  that  these  men  wrought  for  others, 
not  themselves.  It  was  Chinese  Gordon's 
spirit  and  it  is  inscribed  on  his  monument  in 
St.  Paul's: 


CONCLUSION 


229 


Major  Gexerai,  Chahixs  Georoe  Gordok,  C.  B. 
who  at  all  times  and  everywhere  (jave  his  strength  to 
the  weak,  kis  substance  to  the  iwor,  his  sympathy  to 
the    suffering,    his    heart    to    Ood. 
Born  at  Wooluyich  28  Jan.,  1S.13 
Slnin  at  Khartoum  26  Jan.,  1885 
He  saved  an  empire  by  his  warlike  genius,  he  ruled 
va4t    provinces   with    justice,   wltdom   and   power;   and 
htstly,  obedient  to  his  sovereign's  command,  he  died  in 
the  heroic  alti^mpt  to  save  men,  women  and  children  from 
inminent  and  deadly  peril.     Greater  love  hath  no  man 
than  this,  (hat  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends. 

And  now  we  must  make  our  choice,  for 
the  high  life  or  the  low,  for  the  life  lived  for 
self  and  the  uncnduring,  or  for  the  eternities 
and  God.  The  question  Is  not  a  question  of 
necessities  or  of  impossibilities.  It  Is  a  ques- 
tion of  personal  choice,  of  personal  choice  now. 
It  is  as  It  was  of  old,  "  To-day— If  ye  will  hear 
His  voice,  harden  not  you  hearts.     To-day!" 


